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toxicanonymity · 5 months

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Sweet little mess.

3.2k words, joel x f!reader x tommy | latest fics SUMMARY: Uncle Tommy is back, and you're enjoying a cozy night with the boys. PWP, follows Stuffing, but can read alone. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (legal), use of daddy/uncle, sharing, fingering, cuckish watching, oral f receiving, jacking off, unsafe PiV, creampies, talk of breeding, MFM kinda, reader can straddle / sit on their laps. Little darkish but soft, reader is very into it, but still a power imbalance with some coaxing (mild dubcon). AU where you don’t overthink this fic or i swear to god. A/N: FIWB. Sharing recs at the bottom, @toxicrecs is rec blog. If you're not into brotherly sharing, please quietly move along.

Being snowed in isn't too bad. You’re grateful for the extra firewood, and you liked watching the boys chop it as the storm clouds rolled in. Now the three of you are settled in for a cozy evening. You're sitting at the end of the sofa between Joel's legs, and Tommy's across the room. They're talking about home improvement projects. Joel’s hand is under your dress, slowly working its way up your thigh, caressing you as they talk. Your dress rides up with Joel's hand, exposing more and more of you. Tommy sits back in the armchair and runs his fingers along his gold chain as he talks. His eyes shamelessly follow Joel's hand.

You were hesitant to give up your stockings after dinner, but Joel coaxed you into a pair of fuzzy socks instead. He likes your legs bare. You're warm enough, after all--so warm your sweater has come off--and Joel is in his happy place. Joel's light touch is enough to make you throb, but the hard bulge of his cock is also pressing against you through his jeans, and his deeper breaths are lifting you on his chest. When Joel's fingers have nearly reached your panties, he lingers just outside the crotch of them, caressing the crease where your thigh meets your torso. You can feel Tommy’s eyes on you, and it makes you tingle more. Despite everything that’s happened, you still feel a little shy with him, and his lustful trance is enough to give you butterflies.

The length of Joel’s middle finger traces a slow, light path around your thigh crease, as close as he can possibly get without touching your panties, and his cock twitches against you. He brings his other hand to your other thigh. On each side, he traces the leg hole of your underwear up and over the curve of your hip, then back down between your legs. His touch is still painfully light, and you're aching for something more. Finally, one hand slides over to cup your mound. He ghosts your clit through the fabric, then his fingers tease lower, reaching a very damp spot that’s spreading by the second.

“Mm,” he sighs into your hair, deep and quiet. He and Tommy stop talking. By now, your dress is pulled all the way up and your panties are exposed to Tommy’s lustful gaze across the room.

“Someone’s all wet for us,” Joel murmurs.

“Daddy,” you whisper, cheeks burning.

Tommy raises an eyebrow and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “That so, cupcake?” He turns one of his chunky rings as he watches between your legs.

Joel’s hand slides up above the hem of your panties, then plunges into them. He gives a low whistle when he reaches your wetness. “Oh yeah,” he tells Tommy.

Your face and chest are hot. Joel’s free hand pulls your dress up further out of the way. He and Tommy both watch Joel’s massive hand moving rhythmically while it’s crammed into your panties. Your mouth falls open with his practiced strokes. Joel touches you just how you like, and your eyes roll back. You rest your head back against Joel, and his cock fully hardens against you. It presses into you and Joel lets out a barely audible grunt. His hips begin to rock ever so slightly. You’re so lost in bliss, you only vaguely see Tommy’s silhouette slowly crossing the room. He kneels at your feet.

“Let’s take care of this pretty girl,” Tommy murmurs and his hands slide up your thighs. Joel doesn’t stop fingering you with his hand down your panties. Tommy’s palms slide up your hips, and you flinch when his fingers begin to curl under the elastic band.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers. You close your thighs and Joel leans back, slightly lifting you as Tommy takes your panties down. Tommy takes his time bringing them down your legs.

Tommy looks at your wet panties in his hand. “Ya weren’t lyin’, were ya brother,” Tommy chuckles. Tommy balls up your panties and brings them to his face, covering his mouth and nose. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed, then takes a lick. “God damn,” he murmurs. He puts them in his pocket, then his hands come to your knees. Joel’s fingers tease your dripping hole, and Tommy’s thumbs trace light circles on your knees, watching Joel’s hand at work. You bite your lip. Tommy nudges your knees a little further apart.

Joel whispers, “’s okay, baby. Show Uncle Tommy your pretty little pussy.”

You let your thighs spread wide, and your lower belly tingles as Joel’s hand slides out of the way. Then he moves both his hands to cup your breasts through the dress and your nipples harden. Tommy’s hands slide up your thighs, and your hips tilt on their own. The drag of his rings on your skin is still a new sensation.

“Good girl,” Tommy whispers to your pussy. “Mm.” He uses his thumbs to spread you apart and admires the way you’re gushing arousal onto the skirt of the dress you’re sitting on. “Look at this sweet little mess,” he mumbles.

Joel is gently massaging your breasts. “Uncle Tommy can touch ya, can’t he baby?” Joel murmurs. You nod. “Like that, don’t ya?” Joel asks and you nod. Tommy’s eyes sparkle and he gives you a little smile.

Tommy’s thumb dips into the pool of slick at your entrance, then slides up your slippery seam to your clit. You let out a little sigh.

“Good,” Tommy whispers as he circles your clit with his thumb. “That’s real good, honey.” He keeps teasing your clit with that thumb as his other hand inches closer, then plays with your pussy. He rubs your extra slick around, then his middle finger prods your entrance. His finger pushes into you, all the way until a silver ring disappears inside you, and his other hand keeps thumbing your clit. His brow furrows watching his digit disappear into you, and you twitch around it.

“Close already, ain’t she” he mutters to himself, then glances up at you. “Gonna put my mouth here, k sweetheart?” The thumb on your clit taps it twice. You nod and your pussy clenches around his finger. “God damn,” he whispers.

Tommy takes his thumb away and rests that hand on your thigh. His breath is humid on your mound as his mouth gets close, with a thick finger still slowly moving in your core. He licks his lips, then plants a tender kiss on your clit as the finger inside you slowly moves. Your hips lift into Tommy’s mouth.

Joel's hard cock lightly grinds against you. “Good girl,” Joel says with your breasts under his palms. You can hardly stand it.

Tommy licks down to your hole, where his tongue meets his finger, then he licks back up and sucks on your clit. He adds another finger, and when you twitch around them, he hums “Mm” into your clit. He presses his tongue just below it and sucks more.

You whimper, and Joel nuzzles his nose against your ear. “That’s it, baby, that’s it.”

You’re about to burst. Tommy hums into your clit again and his fingers curl inside you.

The first pulse of your climax is long and hard and you whimper, “daddy,” closing your eyes and pressing your back into Joel’s chest as your walls clamp down on Tommy’s fingers and your hips lift into his mouth. As the force of your climax overtakes you, you jerk in Joel’s embrace and Tommy groans into your cunt. The way you squeeze Tommy’s fingers makes him shudder, and you whimper again.

“It’s okay,” Joel whispers as you finish.

Tommy pulls away and his face glistens from the mustache down.

“Oh, fuck,” Tommy sighs and palms himself. “She’s somethin’ else, Joel.”

“Sure is,” Joel answers quietly and proudly, punctuated just for you with a barely perceptible thrust. Tommy breathes heavily and rubs the front of his jeans.

“Just imagine,” Tommy’s eyes scan your body. “Imagine her knocked up,” Tommy’s brow furrows at Joel, then his eyes return to your body. “Round ’n swollen from all this cum.” Tommy’s breath is heavy. “Fuck.” He looks like it hurts.

With the look on Tommy’s face, you can’t help but sit up a little bit to try to get a look at his pants. Joel notices and leans forward a bit. Tommy’s jeans are tight with a hefty shape below his belt, curving over the top of his thigh like a large sausage. It makes you wet your lips. Tommy cracks a smile. “Yeah, that’s for you, sugar,” he murmurs. “You did that.” He strokes the solid shape and looks at you hungrily. “Wanna see it, cupcake?”

“Um,” you hesitate.

“Sure ya do, baby,” Joel reassures you softly, and you nod.

Tommy gets up on the sofa next to you and Joel. He unbuckles his jeans, biting his lip at you. He unzips, then pulls down his pants.

He wraps his hand around the protrusion in his boxers and reads your face. “Feelin’ a little shy, sugar. Why don’t ya bring him out?”

Joel rotates the two of you to face Tommy more. “Go ‘head, baby.”

You lean forward and Tommy takes his hand away, leaving a massive tent. First, you squeeze his thick shaft through his boxers. Your breath hitches. His eyes sparkle as he watches your face.

“Why don’t ya come a little closer, honey,” Tommy murmurs.

“Go on,” Joel agrees. “Sit in Uncle Tommy’s lap.”

You slowly get up, and Joel palms himself for relief as you straddle Tommy’s thighs. Joel sighs as he strokes himself through his jeans. Tommy’s hands on your lower back help you balance. You take Tommy’s boxers down below his thick cock and it’s leaking with precum. He helps you take the boxers down further, freeing his hefty balls as well.

“You wanna touch these too?” Tommy asks and cradles his balls. You must look curious. “It’s okay, ya can,” he smiles. He reaches out for your hand and you give it to him. He cups his balls with your hand and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, good girl. He smears the precum on his tip while you gently cup his balls and admire his cock. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel has taken his cock out, and he spits onto it. You turn and stare at Joel’s cock longingly. He looks back at you warmly and says, “When you’re done with that one, baby doll.” You give Tommy’s balls a soft squeeze, then abandon them to hold onto his shoulders with both hands.

Tommy holds his cock straight up while you hover it. He runs the head of his cock through your dripping folds, then teases your clit with his tip before nestling it at your entrance. As soon as he’s notched there, you begin to sink down. You sigh and he shudders as his cock spreads your insides. “Fuck,” he breathes. He takes a deeper breath with his eyes closed, and his nose twitches. As your body accommodates him, you admire the way his strong chest rises and falls under his chain. Tommy lifts up the skirt of your dress to have a better look.

“Take it off,” Joel tells him. “Lemme see my pretty girl.” You take your hands off Tommy’s shoulders and Tommy helps remove your dress, leaving you naked. “Good,” Joel murmurs.

Tommy’s warm palms map your back as he takes in the full sight of your body in the warm flickering light from the fire. You begin to move on Tommy’s cock, and he rests his hands on your sides. Tommy’s hips lift into you, pushing his cock deeper, making you sigh. You hold onto his shoulders and keep looking at Joel as you ride his brother. “Fuck, she feels good,” Tommy mutters.

Joel looks at you darkly and nods as he watches you. He spits again and strokes himself slowly. You bend forward and rest your head in the crook of Tommy’s neck, with your face turned toward Joel. You slowly move your hips, and Joel’s eyes follow your cunt up and down as you take Tommy's length. Joel’s big veiny hand wrapped around his cock makes you twitch around Tommy. Joel is so patient and generous. You think about what Tommy said - they’ve been sharin’ their toys for fifty years. It feels special, getting to watch Joel’s cock and feel full of one at the same time. You twitch again and tilt your hips for more pressure on your clit.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers. “Gonna cum already?”

You keep watching Joel, and don’t answer. You’re in a daze. You’re gonna miss this when Tommy leaves town again. It feels like Joel is watching you and fucking you too, somehow. You move slowly at a steady rhythm that matches Joel’s hand on his own cock.

Joel nods as he asks, “Gonna cum on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. You tilt your hips and grind your clit into Tommy’s pubic bone with the heft of his cock dragging inside you, hugged by your walls.

“Fuck, yeah,” Tommy whispers.

“Mmm,” you whine, and watch Joel watching you. Tommy’s hands on your ass guide your movements, still in rhythm with Joel’s self-pleasure.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, and you realize you’re holding your breath with the tension. You exhale with a sigh, then Tommy takes a deep breath with you and nods.

“God damn, you look good, baby,” Joel murmurs, and his husky voice puts you over the edge. You whine as your cunt chokes Tommy’s cock, you tilt your hips, pushing your clit into his pubic hair, and Tommy groans with your climax.

“Oh, God,” Tommy breathes, “Fuck–Ohh, f–” He looks at Joel.

Joel nods, “Fill her up.”

Tommy’s fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down on him, and he erupts. He sighs, “Ohhh, fuck” and his hips lift into you as the warmth spreads through your core and clench on him in fading pulses.

Joel scoots closer to Tommy, eyeing where your bodies are joined. When you’re finished coming, Tommy helps you off his lap. Tommy’s cock slides out of you, and he offers a hand for you to hold onto for balance as you move to Joel’s lap.

You straddle Joel’s thighs. With your thighs spread wide over Joel’s lap, your cunt is spread open and a bit of Tommy’s cum dribbles out as you put your arms around Joel’s neck and kiss him. Joel kisses you tenderly, then looks down between your bodies where you’re dripping on him.

“Sorry, daddy,” you whisper, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, baby doll.” Joel looks down at his cock suggestively. You sink down on it in a hurry, and your mouth falls open as Joel’s throbbing manhood makes you whole. Tommy tucks his softening cock into his boxers and watches in a daze.

“Oh, baby,” Joel sighs. “Feel even better than ya look.” His hips rock up into you as you ride him. You kiss him again and he holds you close. You feel so full of him, and yet he slides easily in and out with the combined mess from you and Tommy. You can hear a light squelching, and the milky mix is gathering in Joel’s dark pubic hair, making it look grayer . It’s sloppy, and obscene, and it turns you on more.

Joel watches his cock disappearing into you, and with both your eyes on the mess, he asks, “How’s that, baby?”

“Feels so good,” you whine. Joel’s hands are warm on your hips. You let him take over, moving you on his cock. You rest your limply in his arms. Joel grunts and moans into your hair, and you sigh and whimper. You look at Tommy, and Tommy gives you a little smile, then rests his hand on your thigh, under Joel’s wrist. Your insides are all buzzing, swollen with tension already again. You study Joel’s face. A fine mist has gathered on his temples. He rakes his hair back, then returns his hand to your hip.

“Mmm,” Joel hums with his cock dragging snugly between your walls. He cradles your head with one hand and brings your face to his for a long, deep kiss that gets wet and sloppy. He lightly bites your bottom lip. He pulls back to look at you again, watching your body with as much hunger as if it’s the first time.

“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” Joel breathes, then moans, “Ahh–ungh–when you’re ready.” He slows you down on his cock, moving you only with the lift of his hips, using his hands for balance only.

You nod, and Joel responds, “mmmmm-yyeah,” and explodes with a long, loud sigh. It’s a massive eruption. “Ohhh,” he moans and moves you slowly on his cock while the warm bursts fill you up. You look down and it’s overflowing into his pubic hair.

He whispers, “’s ok–ohhh,” releasing another burst of cum. “Ohh, good girl.”

Joel wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

You shiver in some kind of deep contentment, and Joel rubs your back with his big, warm hands.

Tommy asks, “You cold, sugar?”

You shake your head, your skin still tingling warm from the pleasure.

Tommy picks up your dress anyway. He stays seated next to you and Joel and helps put it on you while you’re still plugged by Joel’s cock. Tommy pulls the dress down over your breasts and lets the fabric hang, covering the mess on Joel’s lap. Then Tommy reaches under your dress, stopping just below your breasts. The back of his hand holds the fabric out toward Joel’s chest. He moves his hand in a curving motion, making the dress look like you’re pregnant. “One day I’ll come back, n’ you’ll be out to here,” Tommy murmurs. He lets the dress collapse, then pats your lower belly and your face heats up.

“I dunno,” you mutter shyly and glance at Joel, grateful that he hasn’t made you do it. He certainly could. He controls the medicinal tea and keeps the calendar.

Joel looks at you with kind eyes and shakes his head.”Scares her,” he tells Tommy. “She don’t wanna push one out.”

“Well, I reckon I wouldn’t either,” Tommy chuckles. “That’s okay, sugar.” Tommy cups your cheek and brushes it with his thumb.

“But maybe if we stretch her out good,” Joel muses softly, “Show her what this body can do. . . She’ll come around.”

“Ohh yeah,” Tommy moans, taking his hand back. He stretches his back.

“You liked that, right baby?” Joel asks you. “What we did last time?”

You nod and mostly suppress a smile.

Joel winks at Tommy, then gives you a kiss on the forehead.

Once Joel lets you off his lap, he takes you to the bathroom so you can go and he can clean both of you up. When you come back to the sofa, Tommy pulls a blanket over all three of you and you snuggle up. Joel has his arm around you and Tommy is rubbing your thigh affectionately. When you get sleepy, you lie down with your head in Joel's lap and your legs draped over Tommy's. It wouldn't be so bad to be snowed in a few more days.

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Thank you so much for reading. Love you all and always appreciate your sweet comments and thots.

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I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print

And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey

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FIC RECS (@toxicrecs for more)

(Same as the list in Stuffing) - If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are I can be your pretty girl parts 4 and 5 (but the whole series) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear, Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra. More sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, raider AU by @milla-frenchy. If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered. Also, @wannab-urs has a new spreadsheet digest dedicated to multiples.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not receiving a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" link on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#uncle!tommy #uncle!tommy miller #uncle tommy #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #tommy miller x female reader #joel miller x you #daddy!joel miller

2K notes · View notes

heartpascal · 1 year

Note

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed<;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

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Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

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Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller father figure #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #tommy miller father figure #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #heartpascal writes

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tommysversion · 1 year

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Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #tommy miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #Tommy Miller x reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #pedro pascal character fic #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you

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alwaysmicado · 1 month

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idiots in love • slow burn but they’re fucking the entire time • the angst • filthy smut • sickening cuteness • menace of a reader • Tommy • lots of sarcasm • trauma • no outbreak • heartbreak • realizing you do deserve love and happiness 1 You wanted this 2 Wet 3 Don’t ruin the sofa 4 What you need 5 Trouble 6 No broken hearts 7 Sunshine 8 Sink or swim 9 coming soon

prequel: we shouldn’t

Joel masterlist • main masterlist • AO3

Thank you all so much for loving this series! Your support, kind words, and enthusiasm mean the world to me! I love you 🤍

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hunnylagoon · 1 month

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The Girl That Time Forgot

Ellie Williams x Reader

Find me in one thousand years, I will always be waiting here.

Premise: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price.

Warnings: death / murder / mentions of suicide / self-harm / toxic relationship /sickness / violence / angst / war / mentions of drugs / lovers?friends(ish)?enemies? it’s complicated / mild gore / things get nuts

ONE-SHOT | WC 18k (so you know what you’re getting into)

AID PALESTINE!

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

Come back in one hundred years, you'll always find me here.

Rain splashes against the skin of your face in lands of ancient Greece, where the winds themselves whispered stories of gods and heroes, neither of which you were. You were nothing more than a frightened woman running away from an unforgiving husband in the dead of night where your quickened heartbeat falls in rhythm to the ocean which is almost as angry as the storm that roars above.

Carefully you dodge the jagged rocks sticking out from the sand, you had memorized each and every one after days of burning your skin on the shores. Water surged against the rocks near your feet, white froth sizzling in the waves retreating like it was trying to drag you in and take you for its own.

Your heavy breathing was devoured by the heavy rain and cracks of lighting, the sounds of thunder so deep it was like Zeus himself was stomping in the clouds. Despite the night being dark you trusted the moonlight that glimmered off of the ocean to guide you. You have nothing more than the soaking wet clothes on your back, jewelry to sell, and the drachmas you had stolen from your husband tucked away safely in a wool tagari purse.

Someone grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks "Hey!" They say, though you can't quite make out the figure in the dark you know it's a woman from the voice alone. "You need to go home." Fear pushes adrenaline to course through your veins at the sound of an unheard tongue babbling in your ears.

Your eyebrows furrow, clutching the bag even harder in your free hand. "Φύγε από μένα!" You scream, trying to force your voice to be louder than the malicious storm that brews over your head. You try to pull your hand away but the woman stands firm hardly even moving.

"Fuck," She mutters, you don't understand a word. In this moment you feel like a rabbit preparing to get devoured by a wolf, whoever this woman was you were shaken to your core like you had just uncovered a dead body. "I forgot that you can't speak English yet."

You struggle under the grip of the woman, using the hand which was holding tightly onto the tagari and begin to hit the woman before you to pry her off your wrist "Δεν θα πάω πίσω, τον μισώ μέχρι θανάτου!" You shout voice loud as thunder.

"Ow!" She said wrinkling her nose and trying to apprehend the hand that was hitting her "Can you stop?" She asks, even though you can't understand her it's worth a shot in her mind.

This does nothing to stop your protest, you only hit her harder hammering your purse against her head until she finally lets go of your wrist to block your swinging. Lighting cracks and just for a moment you catch a glimpse of her. Short brown hair that falls at her shoulders, and freckles across her face, something you had never seen before. What frightened you wasn't the sharpness of her green eyes but her clothes, an alien concept to you. She didn't wear a tunic but a scratchy blue fabric tight on her legs and what to you resembled a baggy grey burlap sack with a piece of cloth hanging off the back. In recent years it has come to be known as jeans and a hoodie.

"Δαίμονα, μάγισσα, φύγε!" You smack her once more for good measure and turn quickly on your sandal-covered heel to get away from her. You were as wild and untamed as the ocean itself, with eyes that sparkled with a craving for more than honey dripping down your tongue and salt smeared across your lips.

"Remember I tried to help you this time!" She shouts, her voice is so far off in the distance that you barely heard it through the storm. Even if her words were clear it made no difference, you didn't speak her tongue, and any warning fell unheard upon your ears "Have fun being twenty forever!"

You ran even faster than you had before, you didn't even turn around to see if the woman was still on your tail.

The salty spray stung your cheeks as you ran, your breath ragged and steps unsteady. The wind howled in protest, whipping at the wet hair that stuck to your face and neck, tearing at your white peplos, turned translucent on your body by the water. But you paid no heed to the fury of the elements, for you were driven by a desperate need to escape.

As you reached the edge of a rocky outcrop, your leather sandal caught on a slick stone, sending you tumbling to the ground. With a sickening thud, your head struck against the unforgiving rock, and the world around you spun into darkness.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until it swallowed you whole and sucked you in deeper. Ropes of hair twist before your dull eyes, unmoving into the deep.

You sink further in and open your eyes though you are still deceased, your body still falling cold. Selene stands before you in the form of midnight. Her body was ebony and deep blue, half woman, half moon. Long black hair like ink tipped with moonlight spills down her breasts and her hips, she watches you with her pale eyes imploring.

The goddess before you turns to lead the way, enticing you to follow. Each step sends knives through your limbs. Your mouth tastes like blood and your lungs burn red hot though every time you try to breathe you choke and sputter of nothing, still, you follow Selene into the nothingness ahead.

Finally, she turns, one finger pressed to her lips, signalling you to be quiet. Beside her, a pale soldier appears in fine silver armour chiselled against his muscular body. The areas that the armour does not cover, his arms and an area of his legs between the middle of his thighs to just below his knees, tattered bandages hang around his limbs, They sway in the nothingness and shed by themselves. You see open wounds deep and red, beginning to bleed but his pasty skin sews itself up, leaving no scar behind, nothing but smooth flesh. Wings larger than the man himself sprout from his back. Thanatos.

Thanatos bows his head, hiding his deep sunken eyes beneath a Corinthian helmet. You should be afraid that you face the god of death but you aren't. This is a better fate than being hauled back to your husband.

He takes his helmet off, long dark hair falls onto his shoulders and he regards you. Thanatos is wordless as he stares at you, taking in every of your face, every curve of your body. He doesn't speak but you understand him well, too much beauty to go to waste.

Selene has left you to take her place back in the night sky, she watches you were she hangs on a beam of moonlight. In one hand Thanatos holds a silver knife. Your voice betrays you, for once your loud screeching voice is lost.

He holds out his hand, pitch black at the fingertips. You can tell he is trying to strike a deal as if he had put his words into your mind without ever even moving his lips.

You look at his hand and then at his face, death was less frightening than you had imagined, handsome for a god who took so many lives. He lets his offer sit and settle within you, he doesn't try to sweeten the deal, he offers you another chance and that is that.

The second you shake Death's hand, he pulls away from your grip and takes the silver dagger to your heart. With ease, he slices back layers of flesh in one swoop leaving your bones exposed before him. Using what seemed to be little effort for the god of death, he breaks your ribs and pulls out your heart.

You watch it beat in his hand, the blood drifting out of it like ribbons that hook around your limbs, you know you have made a mistake. For the first time, Thanatos smiles. Oh, how the wolf wore the sheep as a wicked disguise. he squeezes the heart and at the crush of his hand, you feel ice shoot through your veins.

Your eyes open, properly open. You were alone. You wake up in nothing more than a metre of water and immediately cry out in pure terror at the horrifying images that your mind has conjured up. You run through the salty ocean and back to the shore.

The storm hadn't subsided which helped to camouflage your sobs as you frantically felt around your body with shaking hands to be sure that the god of death hadn't ripped out your heart. Surely enough, your rib cage was intact. You fall onto your hands and knees heaving up all of the ocean water you had swallowed.

The purse that held your resources for escaping had either been devoured by the ocean or stolen off your body. Your wirey hands touch the back of your hand, you expect to shudder under the pain of the open wound that knocked you unconscious. Instead of pain shooting from a gash in your head, you are perfectly intact.

You look down at your hands, no trace of blood.

Maybe it was time to start believing in myths because you were in one.

Rome - July- 116 AD

Don't they know it's the end of the world?

At the center of the world, you had been buried alive for three years after switching places with a Vestal Virgin who looked remarkably identical to you in exchange you gained a large sum for your alleged death. When you were buried you hadn't thought much about how you would get out, you just knew that you wouldn't suffocate or starve.

After the second year passed you were beginning to think that offering to get enclosed in a stone tomb with bread, water, oil, a candle, and a bed wasn't a great way to live your abnormally long life. The air grew stale, and the silence of the tomb echoed with the whispers of the dead that surrounded you on all four walls.

Before sleeping every single night, you prayed to the gods to take your life but they never listened. What you once thought to be a blessing had turned out to be a curse, no blessing would make you crave death the same way you craved sunlight and cream. You had given away the gift of aging for a sweet pleasure that quickly became bitter on your tongue.

The first few moons after you had slipped into unconsciousness you truly believed it at all been some strange hallucination caused by smacking your dead until you took a steep tumble and fell on your husband's hunting knife only to pull it out of your body and watch the skin over your stomach fix itself up, leaving no evidence behind that it had ever happened aside from the blood on the knife.

All you know to do is survive.

It's not like you hadn't tried to find a way out of it, some loophole that would shatter the deal and set you free. You had 527 years to try and make some sense of it, but you had given up and resorted to trying to find a way to end your life. Every time you did that, Ellie always showed up to help but you were back together.

You didn't understand the words that came from her mouth, all you knew was that her name was Ellie and she was cursed like you. What was she cursed with? You weren't sure but she seemed a little less miserable with you.

Ellie would come into your life now and then, usually an unwelcome surprise, she always knew where to find you. The only consistent face that you've seen for 527 years. She seemed to know more about you than you knew about her.

Overhead of the tomb, you see a crack of light slip through one of the stones that sealed you in. A tremor shook the earth, and the ancient stones of the tomb began to crumble. Light spilled into the darkness as the walls collapsed around you.

Surely enough Ellie's head looked down at you. She smiles and extends a hand to help you out "Sorry I took so long, I had to time it right with the earthquake, you picked poor timing to get buried alive." She hauled you up, and you stepped over the rubble with bare feet, careless of whether you gut them on the freshly shattered stone or not, you knew that they would heal over regardless.

Despite still not understanding her tongue you were for a change, glad to see her. As you suspected, your feet had been sliced up, leading a little trickle of blood in your wake. The moment you reached the surface, you collapsed to the ground. The city was crumbling around you but they were the ones who locked you away in the first place. You ignored Ellie's unknown words and felt the lush grass for the first time in three years, the heat of the sun resting on your skin.

Beside you, Ellie wrinkles her nose. "You've definitely smelled better," This is one of the times when she dresses appropriately for the era, a toga slung around her toned figure. "Oh, I thought you might be hungry so I brought this, I know you don't have to eat but I figured it would be nice," She unfolded a piece of cloth beside her revealing a small stack of round pastries that had little brown dark spots in it, nothing you had seen before.

You furrow your eyebrows, partly in confusion, partly because your eyes were still adjusting to the light after being enclosed in darkness for three years. "Τι κοιτάζω;"

"They aren't bad I promise," She says, she had made an effort to learn Greek for you but it proved too difficult, all she knew was the odd word. "They're cookies and don't tell anyone because I'm pretty sure they don't get invented for six hundred years."

Ellie speaks freely like you comprehend every word that she says. You make a face that almost resembles a snarl as you eye her and the cookies suspiciously.

"In a few more centuries we're cool with each other," She eats one of the cookies, slowly taking a bite to show you that they were edible. The cookies are a little too good however and she eats the entire thing in mere seconds, speaking through a mouth full of crumbs "Maybe more than a few centuries," She corrects herself "It's like a thousand years and then some but you come around."

She looks once more at the confusion on your face and gives up on trying to verbally communicate, instead she just holds the cloth holding the chocolate chip cookies towards you and looking into her eyes as sharp as a wolf, you hesitantly take one.

Norwich, England- November- 1327

I can't take my eyes of you.

In the dimly lit streets of the town, where the stench of death hung heavy in the air and fear gripped the hearts of its inhabitants. People no longer walked freely around town, they were either sick and on the trek to become puss-filled corpses or they locked themselves away and observed the demise of friends and foes from their windows.

You had seen civilizations rise and fall and witnessed the ebb and flow of history itself, but nothing could have prepared you for the horror that awaited you in the plague-ridden streets of the town. As the death toll rose with each passing day, you donned the garb of a plague doctor, your face concealed behind a grotesque mask adorned with beak-like protrusions filled with aromatic herbs that helped to cover the sickly sweet smell of rotten corpses.

Armed with little more than your knowledge of ancient remedies and a desperate desire to ease the suffering of the afflicted, you ventured into the heart of the epidemic, where the sick lay writhing in agony and the cries of the dying echoed through the night like they were eating themselves alive.

"Jeez, this isn't good," Ellie appears beside you, out of thin air like she tended to do. Now she was wearing a green dress, long bell sleeves and a golden trim around the dress, she wore a white vale pushing her hair back. Though she was dressed for the time period she looked out of place in the garb of a noblewoman, surrounded by the sick and dying peasants. "I can't stick around too long because an official vaccine for the bubonic plague isn't developed until 2072."

"How many people will die from this?" You ask, voice somewhat muffled from the leather mask, stuffed with herbs.

"About fifty," She trails off "Million."

You were not a god's chosen but a god's cursed. You had already suspected her to say something along those lines. Your voice failed as you watched the searchers who had been employed by the city, dragging dead bodies off into a pit to be buried in a mass grave.

"Look on the bright side-

"There is no bright side," You turn to walk away from her, shoving Ellie into the back of your mind.

With each patient you tended to, you felt the weight of your immortality pressing down upon her—a burden too heavy to carry, yet one you could not escape. You watched as the plague consumed the bodies and souls of those around you, leaving nothing but death and apathy in its wake, a dream that this would be over soon.

Immortality was a mockery, you thought yourself to be a spectacle to the gods above, nothing more than cruel entertainment. As much as you run, you get nowhere, you always end up in the same place, watching those you developed bonds and memories with die.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you fought tirelessly against the tide of death, your resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier, burdened by the weight of countless lives lost and the knowledge that she alone would bear witness to their suffering for eternity.

A boy on his porch cries for his mom and dad who will never be coming home, his sobs echo through the narrow streets like a wolf's howl.

As the moon cast its ghostly glow upon the desolate streets, you stood amidst a sea of bodies, your gloved hands stained with the blood of the fallen. The plague had taken its toll, claiming the lives of all those you had sworn to protect, leaving you alone in a world consumed by darkness.

Henry, a stonemason who had no family aside from his little brother now cries over his body. Sam, the young boy had been hit hard with the disease, the sores covered almost every inch of his body and turned black upon his ebony skin. You had watched every stage of his sickness, there was no cure other than comfort, the only thing you couldn't offer to Henry at that moment.

You could turn the brothers into poetry but you couldn't offer up the immortality that you carried like a cross you had to bear.

He held Sam's corpse in his arms, hugging him close and sobbing. Henry was freshly infected there was no way he would make it out alive though you weren't sure that he even wanted to after watching his baby brother's hands turn pitch black and seize up.

How strange that you, someone who was not deserving of eternal life, was the one burdened with it. People are dying and you can't get a grip.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, you cast aside her mask, the symbol of your futile efforts to defy the inevitable. For in that moment, you realized that no amount of healing could undo the damage wrought by the plague, and no amount of compassion could ease the pain of those who had been lost.

You turned your back on the town that had become your prison, the echoes of its suffering fading into the night. For though you were immortal, you were not invincible—bound by the chains of your own existence, condemned to wander the earth as a silent witness to the fleeting moments of life and the relentless march of death.

Salem, America- April- 1692

Immortal she, return to me.

The paranoid colonial Massachusetts was not the place for a woman who never ages. You grew careless of covering up your secret and lived on the outskirts of Salem, seen by few but that didn't aid the treacherous rumours whispered about you.

You had been there when they settled in 1626 and hadn't aged a day from the time you settled. This had spread into rumours of you dancing with the devil, practicing witchcraft, and bewitching townspeople.

Though many denied your existence, all fingers pointed towards you when two young cousins began acting erratically and were given the diagnosis of being under an evil hand.

The courtroom was a hallowed chamber of unjust judgment, where the accused stood trial before the watchful eyes of the magistrate and the hushed voices of the gathered crowd. You stood, with your hands bound and your head held high, faced your accusers with a steely resolve, eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished.

As the trial unfolded, it became clear that justice was but a mere facade—a thin veil masking the insidious machinations of those who sought to rid the town of its perceived evils. Witnesses were coerced, evidence fabricated, and lies spun like silk until the truth became little more than a distant memory lost to paranoia and skepticism. In the crowd, mixed in with the townspeople, you saw Ellie.

Her steady gaze on you was unmoving and ever-focused, a small smile played on her lips while she watched you face the accusations, anger simmering deep inside you like a curse.

Despite protestations of innocence, you were found guilty of witchcraft—a verdict as unjust as it was inevitable. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you were led to the gallows, where the noose awaited you like a taunt.

You had still been bound by your hands in front of your grime-covered dress from being imprisoned in a dark cellar for a month which felt like mere hours in your lifespan.

A man named David, one of the wealthiest residents of Salem and the first to seek warrants against the accused innocent aided you into stepping onto the back of a cart. The crowd surrounding you cheered while a church member slipped the noose tied to a tree around your neck.

"Hang the witch!" Ellie shouts and you lock eyes with her, feeling nothing more than bitterness and resentment. She still seems unfazed and somewhat amused like she's seen this a thousand times, she likely has. You know she had already watched you 'die' over and over again, Ellie was desensitized to it.

"Hang her!" Another man yells, following Ellie's act in tow. They scream all around you, jeering for your death which would never come. David and the churchman step off the wagon and the crowd gets even louder, anticipating a broken neck and lifeless eyes. David gave a command and the horses pulling the wagon were off, leaving your feet to flail helplessly over nothing.

Even as the rope tightened around your neck and the crowd jeered and spat their curses. Though you couldn't die the pain of the rope restricting your breathing still ran you ragged. For just a brief moment you pretend to die, and those around you cheer. There is so little hesitation in their voices, they were glad to see you dead.

You begin to thrash around, kicking your feet. When the townspeople realized you weren't deceased their cheers of victory fell into silence as you coughed and sputtered on the build-up of saliva and blood choking you. An eery silence falls upon the land while they watch in horror, waiting for you to die. Ellie bites back a smile from where she watches you. You bring your hands, bound together by the wrist to reach up and grab the rope that you hung by. Gathering all the force you can you yank it harshly, over and over again until it finally snaps and you fall to the ground.

David's face falls completely. You had known him to not truly believe in witchcraft but the murder of innocents and threatening women. The look in his eyes when he saw you stumble to your feet. "Witch!"

"Ay, I am the witch!" You shout, the townfolk backing away. You slip your hand where the rope strangled your bent neck, the moment the noose comes loose you pull it off over your head, holding it in one hand. In only seconds the broken bones in your neck heal and you bring your head up, chain raised tall, the wound where the rope dug into your neck disappearing "I am older than your oldest god, I am more ancient than the winds, and more sacred than your cross." You say, only to frighten them.

"Kill her!" David shouts to which no one answers, they are either running or frozen in terror, saving themselves before anyone else.

David isn't fast enough to run, you grab him by his hair and drag his struggling body back beneath the tree where he had hung you. In the blue hour of the day, you hooked the severed noose around his neck and began to walk, dragging his trashing body back to your home on the outskirts of the town. David's body eventually fell limp, still, you dragged it over the rocks and lumps of cobblestone. You had succeeded in making him as afraid of you as you were of him.

You were the first woman who hung in the trials, far from the last. "Headed west now?" Ellie asks, walking beside you, utterly unfazed by what she just witnessed.

Boston, America- March- 1770

In the darkness I will meet my creators, they will all agree that I'm a suffocator.

In the cobblestone streets of colonial Boston, where the talks of revolution were murmured, propaganda poured. There you resided, someone once worshipped as a god whose true name had long been forgotten by history.

But amidst the fervour of the American colonies on the brink of rebellion, you found yourself drawn to the heart of the struggle after the church bells had been rung sending confused people onto the streets covered with snow and out of their homes.

It was on the night of March 5, 1770, that tragedy struck with a swift and merciless hand where a pull of a trigger would be written into history textbooks—the night of the Boston Massacre. As tensions between the colonists and the British soldiers reached a boiling point, you stood amidst the thronging crowd.

The air crackled with tension as the soldiers, emboldened by their orders to maintain order at all costs, faced off against the angry mob, assaulting them with snowballs, chunks of ice and oyster shells for hours on end. With shouts and hollers ringing through the night, protesting the raise of tax brought by King George.

Before the rage-filled crowd stand nine English soldiers holding their ground while the mob grows more and more impatient. This had started when a wig maker apprentice got in a spat with a private stationed outside of the customs house who in turn clobbered the boy with his musket.

The eight soldiers and the captain endure the jeers of the crowd led by Crispus Attucks. The Captain, Preston, refused to fire upon the crowd though as he commanded them from the front, in the line of fire.

You push your way up through the crowd, interweaving through hundreds of people. You watch the nine men stand tall against the sea of angry colonials. One of the men is hit hard in the head with a jagged rock, he falls back to the ground his musket clattering neck to him, just then, behind them in the darkness shouts a voice "Fire!"

With little to no hesitation, the man who fell over quickly scuttles to his feet, firing into the darkness of the evening. Then, in an instant that seemed to stretch into eternity, the first shot rang out—a deafening explosion that shattered the silence of the night and sent shockwaves rippling through the crowd. The other men follow, firing a volley one at a time. Beside you, you hear the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground, you don't have much time to process it before a bullet lands right in your head, the bullet finds its mark, striking you down with a force that seems to rend your immortal body asunder.

For a moment, time stood still—the world around you spinning in a dizzying blur of pain and confusion. "Hault!" Preston the captain orders, the soldiers cease fire at his command, confused as they believed him to be the one who ordered fire.

You used the rising surge of anger and fear emanating from the people around you to disappear into the crowd. Men grew even more angry at this, some dispersed but many stayed put. There were only a few women in a horde of hundred, it was difficult to go unnoticed with a bleeding gash on your head, you looked more monster than human, skin on your face replaced by a mass of flesh and blood. You brought your hands up to rest on the top of your head, arms out in front of you to cover what was once your face so your already scared neighbours wouldn't see a breathing corpse.

You stumbled around on your feet, pushing yourself through the mass of people, all moving in your opposite direction, making it harder for you to keep your head down. "Is something wrong?" A woman asks, you disregard her, shoving her away from you to keep moving. Your head rang with a high-pitched whistling, echoing through your brain, and you could hardly see straight with the one eye you now had, eyesight fuzzy. Each person ahead of you blurred into the next, blood gushing down your face, so much that it trickled into your eye and tinted your vision.

The wound wasn't clean by any means, not a neat through and through. The gunshot had got you right up the cheek and into your forehead, half of your face entirely blown off. The close impact of the shot caused your right eye to burst, you were scrambling away with no face and one eye.

Already you could feel your body working to put itself back together, still blood flowed down from the horror that was your face, down your neck to soak into your stay and your once grey skirts. You leave a trail of blood in your wake, dripping into the snow that is sure to be found my morning.

At last, you finally pass the crowd, though you don't stop. You stumble into the dark streets, running until you tumble on cobblestones slick with snow and slush, eyesight heavily impaired. "You've seen prettier deaths," Ellie sucks a breath through her teeth, she isn't in the dress that a woman would wear in that decade, instead, she's clad in a red coat, the uniform of a British soldier, her hair tied up and tucked beneath a black cap that all of the soldiers adorned.

She stretches her hand out to help, you take it. Instead of being gracious that she came around to help you off the ground, you take a swing at her face, and when your face makes contact with her cheek you hear a crack. Ellie takes a step back, shocked as you haven't hit her since the night you first met, 2181 years prior to that moment. "Why would you scream fire?" You cry. The second you heard the voice, you knew it was Ellie though you hadn't had time to process it before your face was blown off. "Those men are dead, Ellie, they will never go home to their families or take another breath!"

"They die anyway," She retorts, one hand hovering over her now broken cheekbone. You look at her now, your skull re-intact, eyeball sewn itself up and found its place back in your socket, flesh weaves and stretches over your bones to its rightful place. "Fuck," Ellie mutters, wincing as she touches to fingers to her newfound injury "The second that soldier gets hit with that rock, he gets back up and starts shooting, every single time."

You freeze "Every single time?" The very moment the words fall from your lips, Ellie curses herself "How many times have you been here, on this day?"

"Maybe like," She raises an arm in defence the other still cradling her cheek as she winces"Thirty-seven times give or take."

"You've never stopped it?"

"I have," She says, eyebrows furrowing with a certain longing "It ruins everything, if those men don't die, the American revolution never takes place." Ellie's gaze softens "I know that it's awful but it happens whether you're here or not, it was meant to happen."

Ellie reaches out to hold one of your blood-covered hands, but you are quick to retract it, pulling it away. Your eyes move from where her hand waits for yours to intertwine with it to her freckled face. "How many lives have we lived together?"

Her outstretched hand falls to her side. "I don't want to answer that."

"I want to know."

She shakes her head "You'd hate me."

"I already hate you," Your mouth acting faster than your head.

Ellie doesn't seem shocked by this statement, just a little hurt. "We've had good lives together, you don't hate me every time."

"Who have I been to you?" You ask, new questions surging through your scrambled mind, questions you were sure you wouldn't like the answer to. You knew Ellie had the ability to jump between time periods, though you hadn't known that she'd met you in other timelines.

Looking deep into her downturned eyes your mind runs rampant with who you could've been to her in other timelines that defined what you meant to her now. It was like trying to recall memories that didn't belong to you, but another version of yourself- what could've been.

The hushed silence finally dissipates when Ellie opens her mouth again "I'll see you in a hundred years." With that, she turns and walks away into the darkness, her body shrouded by the cold night where screams of the freshly dead hang in the winds like sickening howls.

Nebraska, America - June - 1883

I'll be seeing you.

"Not a bad place to camp, huh?" Tommy smiles at us while the sun blazes overhead, the group disregards him as they set up camp in a grassy clearing with just enough trees to offer shade to the overworked horses. Few pitched tents while the majority prepared for a night of sleeping under the clear sky, unprotected from the elements.

His question falls upon deaf ears "What's in Montana?" Another man, Issac asks. "We're going all this way and I want to know what I've uprooted my life for."

"Untouched land, you'll be a rich man." Tommy takes the cowboy hat off the top of his head, using it to fan himself off, protesting the sweltering heat that devoured him whole beneath layers.

You eye him, unsaddling your horse, Shimmer. You were in a group of people headed to settle in Montana, many of whom you had never spoken to and didn't necessarily want to. The only ones who you had properly known were the Miller family, Maria had been the one who told you about the trip initially, telling you they needed more gunslingers. With a face that doesn't age, a decade was getting a little too long to stay in Cody and here was your offer to get away.

Joel was speaking in hushed tones to his daughter, Sarah. She was nodding along to each word her father said, you had guessed it was a set of rules, him telling her not to run off or chase down wild animals.

You shower your sweaty chestnut horse with little pats and scratches, and she gives you a snort in response as you begin to wipe away the grime she's accumulated over the day's journey. Your entire life was packed away into two saddle bags, there wasn't much room for luxury in the Wild West. Times were harsh and lands were rugged, more commonly violent than anything you'd ever seen.

As you move in front of Shimmer to pet her soft face, she sneezes on you, reverberating on the rubber lips. You scrunch up your nose, and bring your sleeve to wipe your face "You're lucky you're cute," You mutter, hearing the sound of giggling and looking to find Sarah "Hey little lady."

"Hi," Her accent was thick, she came straight from the heart of Texas. Sarah was still young, the things you knew about her dad were only what she had told you, oversharing their personal life.

"Leave her alone now," Joel walks up behind Sarah, her wide eyes looking up at him.

"I don't mind, Joel," You answer. "I saw some sour cherries by the river if you care to come pick 'em with me," You say looking at Sarah whose head immediately shoots to her dad "As long as your father says it's okay."

Sarah silently pleads with her daughter, his gaze is still cold like steel. "Maybe tomorrow," He answers and Sarah's face drops. Despite knowing the Millers for months, Joel was always iffy about letting Sarah out of his sight. He knew almost as well as you how vile the world was, especially to young girls.

"Maybe tomorrow," You repeat Joel's words, digging around in your saddlebags for a small wicker basket and cloth to spread out at the bottom "I'll see y'all around," You give the pair a nod before heading down the bank.

The walk was quick and scenic if you ignored the overwhelming heat and the entirely too many layers you were sweltering beneath. You closed your eyes and let your spirit lift with the sounds of rustly grass and the flowing river nearby. The air was thick with the sweet smell of wildflowers mixed with an earthy bitterness from the ground beneath your feet.

You walked towards the tree, carefully plucking ripe cherries. They reminded you of the same ones you once picked back in Greece, as you ate them the juice smeared down your lips you laughed with your sibling, pretending that you had been blood drinkers or angry gods drinking the wine that was poured for them.

You often find solace in reminiscing over all of the people you have been in the span of one lifetime. You've been a wife, doctor, witch, god, poet, farmer, handmaiden, dressmaker, priestess, and now you were just a woman picking cherries and planning out her next facade. What awaited you in Montana? Hopefully somewhere peaceful, a cabin by a stream where you could live alone and lay outside in a grassy meadow, waiting for the sun to swallow you whole.

After filling the wicker basket, almost to the brim with small sour cherries, a little larger than the end of your thumb. You turn to walk back to the campsite, though you pause at the incline of the riverbank and decide against it, instead, you find yourself sitting under the shade of the cherry tree, staring to the other side of the riverbank.

You thought that you could've spent the rest of eternity under that cherry tree where you listen to the songs the earth sings for you. Here, the air is clean. The river itself was a sight to behold, a ribbon of shimmering blue that wound its way through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. Here and there, small ripples danced across the surface, creating patterns of light and shadow that played upon the sandy riverbed below.

Someone sits next to you, you can sense them awkwardly shuffling around to try and get comfy, from that alone you knew it was Ellie. "Hi, it's been a while," You say, voice quiet.

"Hey," She takes a cherry out of the wicker basket beside you, she bites into it, juice dribbling down her chin, nose scrunches when the sour taste hits her tongue. "Fuck, that's sour."

"They're supposed to be, they're sour cherries," You look at her face to see a large dark bruise engulfing one of her cheekbones, it spreads under her puffy eye bag, giving her a real shiner over her eyelid. "What happened to your face?"

"You," She says, pressing her lips together "After the Boston massacre you hit me pretty hard, remember?"

Your eyebrows furrow "That was more than a hundred years ago."

"For you," She corrects "It's been a little under a week for me."

Your gaze shifts to the glimmering river in front of you "That must be nice," That familiar sense of bitterness set in once again, the reason why you could never stomach being around Ellie for too long. She could blip in and out of your life as she wanted but you were the one forced to sit through thousands of years of torment and longing for the sweet release of death that taunted you in mirrors and the eyes of those who thought they knew you well.

She falls short of words to say. In your eyes it was nice, in her eyes, she faced the woman whom she had married in another life who held nothing more than a little resentment for her now.

"I am sorry that I hit you," You mutter, spitting out the pit of a cherry beside you. "You did cheer for the colonials to hang me though."

"And I am sorry about that," Ellie rolls the stem of a cherry between her fingers, more focused on it than any of her beautiful surroundings. She had seen every bit of scenery that there was to see, her favourite was seeing the dinosaurs, they were much more scary in person than they had been "At least you're an urban legend now."

"What's it matter to be an urban legend when you've already been a god?" You say "It just does not get more interesting than that."

"Yeah, watching you eat your own heart in front of terrified ancestors was pretty cool." Ellie flicks the cherry stem into the river, watching it get swallowed and pulled away by the currents "I'm glad you aren't still mad at me, if I were you I'd probably have a knife to my throat by now."

"I think I'm finally getting wise after two thousand three hundred four years," You joke, digging your teeth into the flesh of another cherry.

"What? You don't look a day over one thousand," She teases, a smile ever so slightly playing on her face.

"Thanks, I was worried."

"Don't be, you look great for your age."

She was joking, her tone light-hearted but something inside you breaks just a little more. You look at your hands, not a wrinkle or callous, no sign of the exciting and extremely terrifying life you had lived, just smooth young skin stretched over ancient bones.

You should've been nothing more than a skeleton buried beneath centuries-old rubble and flora by now. "Yup."

Ellie fiddled with her hands, trying to think of something else to say, she didn't want the conversation to be over just yet. She clung to every word you spoke like it was scripture and she was the most devoted follower. "What are you gonna do in Montana?"

"I think you know better than me," You answer, eyes focused on the water glittering in the blistering sunlight, beads of sweat resting on your brow. "Care to share?"

"Can't say."

"How come?"

She shrugs "I don't think you want to know."

"Well, how many times have I travelled with this bunch?"

"I've lost count," Ellie lies through her teeth, she knew every statistic, she had turned back time to the ancient cities 872 times to be with you. It slowly got easier to face you every time though it never replicated the love you had that first time, a high Ellie was forever chasing.

"Oh," You respond, leaning against the trunk of the cherry tree, sinking into yourself.

The silence stretches between you two. You had actually missed Ellie in the century that she disappeared completely; you found yourself waiting for her to show up around a corner and say something to annoy you.

After swallowing back another cherry in silence you open your mouth to speak "Ellie, whatever I meant to you, whoever I was, I need you to know that I'm not that girl-

"I know-

"I don't think you do," You say, discarding the stem of the cherry beside you "I need you to forget about any life we had together, at least until you get bored of this one."

"I don't get bored of it, I could never get bored of you," She answers.

"Then why start all the way from the beginning over and over again?" You ask "Just to watch me beg for death?"

Ellie shakes her head "I just can't let go of you." She listens to herself "I guess you're right, I'm holding onto someone who doesn't exist anymore." You watch the realization strike Ellie, with each rapid blink her eyes get more and more watery "I'm sorry, I know it's selfish."

"It is," You answer, feeling no urge to coddle "I'm not her, I know that you loved me but I don't remember what you used to be to me. I'm sure I loved you a lot, but I doubt that I do every single time."

Ellie nodded, using the heel of her palm to wipe at the tears that threatened to spill "Okay," Her voice hardly above a whisper "Just see this life through and I promise I'll fix everything, you live a good life, I promise." You stare at her blankly for a moment before nodding. She must know what waits for you in the future, something sweet perhaps, like sugar resting on the tip of your tongue. "I'll always hold you close but I'm learning you let you go."

"I appreciate it," You say, the ghost of a melancholy smile on your face.

The heat of the day finally disappears into the coolness of night and with that, Ellie disappears too, likely to be seen in another year.

The night was draped in the thick, velvety darkness that you only got in the west, where the only illumination came from the crackling flames of a campfire. Around it sat your sorry crew of companions, their weary faces highlighted by the flickering light, casting shadows that danced across the rugged landscape. They had ridden hard all day, herding cattle across vast plains and navigating treacherous terrain, but now, as they rested under the vast expanse of the starry sky, they sought solace in camaraderie and laughter.

"Y'all hear the one about the preacher who walked into a saloon?" Tommy began, his voice gravelly from years of dust and tobacco. Several others in the group had already called it a night, resting their heads beneath the stars that hung in the ink black sky.

The others leaned in, eager for the punchline.

"He says, 'I'm lookin' for the man who's been sleeping with my wife!' And a fella at the bar stands up and says, 'You'll have to narrow it down, preacher!'" The group erupts into bellowing laughter at his words and you can't help but smile at the pure joy written on these gruff men's faces.

"Alright, alright, I got one more for ya," Wyatt announced, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. He was an unnerving man from the looks of it, tall and intimidating but after the first day you had spent with him, he treated you like a baby sister, ready to go to war for you at the drop of a hat. The others perked up, their interest piqued by the promise of one last ribald tale."So there's this rancher," the cowboy began, "and he's got himself a problem with his bull. See, this here bull is getting up there in years, and he just ain't performin' like he used to."

A ripple of knowing laughter spread through the group, anticipation building for the punchline. Joel sat beside you, he had no interest in the jokes nor did he find them funny, all he got from it was a small detox from his life of overworking himself into exhaustion.

"Now, this rancher, he's heard all kinds of remedies for puttin' a little pep back in a bull's step," the cowboy continued. "But none of 'em seem to do the trick. So he finally decides to consult the local veterinarian."

The rest leaned in, hanging on every word.

"The vet takes one look at the old bull and says, 'I got just the thing for him. There's this new experimental treatment I've been workin' on. It involves a little bit of whiskey.'"

The campfire erupted with uproarious laughter, the group hooting and hollering at the unexpected twist, it ws far from the funniest joke you had ever heard, still, you laugh. Some slapped their thighs, others doubled over with mirth, and a few wiped tears of amusement from their eyes.

"And you know what?" the cowboy concluded with a grin. "After that little glass bottle was emptied, that ol' bull was buckin' like a bronco."

As the laughter at last subsided, the fire crackled softly as men began to say their goodnights and lull for the night. They sat in comfortable silence, their thoughts drifting to the vast expanse of the frontier and the challenges that awaited them come dawn and dreams of the promised land of Montana.

"Y'know, fellas- and madams," Wyatt addresses you and Maria, "We've been tellin' jokes and carryin' on like a pack of fools, but there's somethin' to be said 'bout the bonds we share out here on the range," he began, his husky voice tinged with sincerity.

The others nodded, aside from Joel who was studying the fire in front of him, tuned out from the conversation.

"I reckon there ain't nothin' quite like the brotherhood of the trail," he continued. "We ride together, we work together, and when the chips are down, we stand together. Through thick and thin, come hell or high water, we got each other until death takes us all." Wyatt takes another swig of his moonshine "We may come from different walks of life, but out here, under these stars, we're all just cowboys," the cowboy mused. "And there ain't no bond stronger than that."

"That ain't true," Issac poked up "I know that not one of us will see each other once we get to Montana, we're all goin' our separate ways."

"Don't mean there's no bond," You peep up.

"How's that?"

You shrug "Your heart is just too young to realize."

The group stops for a moment before erupting into ragged laughter, Tommy almost has tears in his eyes at the fact that you had called the man seemingly 15 years older than you young "Kid, you're too young to realize how bad life gets."

"Sounds about right."

Cape Cod, America - May - 1937

To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels.

In the hazed ambiance of the club, the air reverberated with the lively tunes of Duke Ellington, and the floor pulsed with the infectious rhythm of swing. Amidst the whirl of dancers, there you were, dancing so exuberantly that others backed away in fear of you swinging on them; though that was the nature of swing dancing, almost a fight to keep your nose unbroken.

But even the most seasoned dancers could only keep up for so long. As the night wore on and the music continued to play, you found yourself in need of a moment's reprieve. With a smile still lingering on your lips, you tapped your partner, Richard's shoulder, signalling your desire to take a break. You hadn't known him well by any means but he was a good dancer.

Leaning against the cool plaster of the club's wall, you breathed deeply, chest rising and falling in time with the music. You closed her eyes, savouring the lingering sensations of the dance. Little did you know, your moment of respite was about to be interrupted in the most unexpected yet delightful manner.

A voice, smooth and warm, broke through the cacophony of sound around you. "Mind if I join you?" the voice asked, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you found yourself face to face with a strikingly handsome man, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. His black hair parted to the side and slicked over as well as his dark eyes soft as snow added to his undeniable charm.

A bemused smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, welcoming the interruption. "Not at all," you replied, voice carrying a hint of amusement.

With a casual elegance, the man leaned against the wall beside you, his gaze drifting out across the dance floor. "You're quite the dancer," he remarked, his tone tinged with admiration. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into pinstripe trousers being held up by black suspenders.

"Thank you. I've had a good bit of practice." You smile softly "Your name is?"

"Jesse," He answered "Care to tell me who I'm talking to?"

"Midge," you lie, it was the name you had picked up for your residence in Cape Cod.

"Midge," he repeats smiling as the name rolls off his tongue "You might just have the prettiest smile in Cape Cod."

You can't help but grin "And I thought I had already met all of the gentlemen around these parts."

"Must've been wrong," He said with his crooked smile. Then, after a moment's pause, he extended a courteous offer. "Can I buy you a Coke? It's the least I can do for such a captivating dancer."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his sincerity and manners. With a twinkle in your eye, you nodded in agreement. "I would like that very much."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly as you sipped on your cokes, exchanging stories and sharing laughter amidst the ringing of the club and chatter of individuals all around. With each passing moment, the two of you scrambled for things to talk about, desperate to keep the spark of conversation alive. You had just prayed that you could pull yourself away from his magnetic charisma.

As the night wore on, the music gradually began to fade, signalling the end of another unforgettable evening. Reluctantly, you rose from your seat, a sense of disappointment tugging at your heart while you watched Jesse lean back in his chair studying you like a textbook.

"Well, it looks like the night's coming to an end," you remarked, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

Jesse nodded, his expression mirroring her sentiment. "Indeed it has," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of hopefulness. "But perhaps it's just the beginning of something new?"

"Perhaps," You agreed, gaze lingering on his handsome face.

That was when you had broken the only rule you created for yourself 'Don't fall in love'. One year later you were so head over heels for Jesse that you were getting married. Dressed in your floor-length wedding dress, hair carefully curated after spending hours trying to perfect it.

You hadn't any family to fill up your side of the aisle, so instead you had asked your friends from work and the jazz club to take their places. After telling Jesse you were orphaned, he didn't bat an eye at this. You had frantically searched for someone to fill the shoes of your father who walked the earth centuries prior on the shores of Greece, it was a relief when Jesse's father stepped up.

Walking down the aisle of the church, arms hooked with Jesse's father you see him then, standing at the end waiting for you and he looks like the rest of your life. "You clean up nice," You mutter to Jesse quietly to be sure no one else can hear your little remark.

"I try my best," He smiles, hands in front of him as he waits patiently for the pastor to speak up. He looks handsome as the day you met as you look remarkably the same, not a new scratch or wrinkle upon a single inch of your skin.

As you exchanged vows, the both of you unable to fight the wild smiles on your faces, the world seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation. With each word spoken, you pledged your love and devotion to one another, promising to stand by each other's side through all the joys and challenges that life would bring and you meant every word.

The reception was nothing short of perfect in your eyes. Everyone gathered at Jesse's parents' home, flowing in and out as they pleased. You however preferred the outdoors aspect of it, where people chatted happily with a glass of champagne in hand.

"Congratulations," Ellie says "Little bummed that I didn't get an invite," There's an odd sense of bitterness in her voice. She's wearing a blue tulle dress at tea length, blending in perfectly around the other guests, long white gloves to cover the tattoo on her forearm, and she even had her shoulder-length hair pin-curled.

"I figured you would be coming around either way."

"You know me too well," She takes the champagne flute out of your hand and swallows it back.

"You're actually the one who knows me too well."

She nods, faces expressionless while she looks around at the scenery of the yard. "Good luck."

"I'm sorry?" You furrow your eyebrows trying to seek out some tell on Ellie's face that would give you any indicator of what's racing through her head. Still, she's unreadable.

"With your marriage."

"Okay?"

"What's the plan here anyways?" She asks picking up someone's glass of wine the second they place it down on the garden table and turn their head away. "In thirty years, you're still married to Jesse, he's sixty getting wrinkly and you're still young and beautiful?"

As Ellie goes to drink the wine you take it out of her hands, putting it back on the garden table. You think of something to say to her, anything, but the words die in your throat, shrivelling up, never to be said.

"I will say that you becoming a history teacher is very funny."

"Did you just come here to sulk?" You ask.

She shakes her head slightly "I've come here to celebrate your union," Ellie glances around the yard once more.

"Then celebrate," you throw your hands out "I don't see you doing anything other than slinking around."

"Honey, who's this?" Jesse strolls up beside you, putting one hand on the small of your back. He smiles brightly as he looks at Ellie, he has known all of your friends which wasn't a bountiful number to begin with, just other teachers you worked with and some people you danced with.

"Oh!" You force a smile onto your face "This is my old friend from New Orleans, we really have some catching up to do."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jesse," He holds out his hand.

"Ellie," She says shaking it.

"When did you become friends?" He asks "Midge hasn't told me a whole lot about her school days."

Ellie looks at you, she doesn't say anything but you get the message being conveyed. 'What the hell are you doing?' she shifts her eyes to look at the groom "God this one was just wild, keep an eye on her," Ellie forces a fake laugh.

"Really?" He has that goofy lopsided smile painted on his face as he looks at you.

"Yup," Ellie says "So, when are you planning on having kids?"

"Oh," Jesse chuckles, somewhat nervously "We haven't discussed that much."

"It seems like something you should talk about before getting married-

"Thank you," You cut her off "Ellie," You couldn't stand the idea of outliving your child let alone your husband, though it was already an inevitable fate.

"Of course," She's wearing a smile that is bordering somewhere between penitence and condescension, Ellie's looking at you like you're in the gutter.

"Looks like rain," Ellie glances up at the increasingly greying sky before walking inside the cover of the house. "Bad idea," She whispered in your ear as she brushed past. In mere moments after she enters the house thunder cracks and rain dumps from the sky, heavy and harsh, beating against your skin.

Everyone rushes inside, covering their heads as rain showers and soaks them. You and Jesse are frozen, you watch Ellie's figure retreat into the group of people clamouring into the house while Jesse's eyes are trained on you, he can't hold back a laugh.

"Oh no," Jesse's eyebrows furrow as he takes one of your hands in his own and puts the other on the back of your head, staring at your face, makeup running from the rain, hair weighed down by fat droplets dribbling off your collarbone "You spent so long on your hair, what are you gonna do?"

You shake off Ellie's words, cryptic as usual. Your attention snaps back to Jesse once you can no longer see her. The gentleness of his touch, that is his beauty "I'm not sure but I've got half a mind to kiss you," You giggle.

"Yeah?" He takes a step forward "I like that half," Jesse plants a gentle kiss on your lips "The other half is great too."

"You're so odd."

It was a quiet Saturday evening in the summer of 1943, the echo of a fuzzy-sounding record player scraping a vinyl filled the room, enveloping you in a certain tenderness.

Jesse, in his crisp white shirt and neatly pressed trousers, held you close, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as they moved together in perfect harmony. Your hair cascaded softly around your face as you rested your head against Jesse's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the cadence of the music.

As you danced, the cares of the outside world didn't seem to exist, leaving only the intimate space you shared. The faint scent of your flowery perfume drowned out concerns. In the dim light, your shadows danced on the walls. Jesse had never been the better dancer between you though he was particularly tense on this night, his eyebrows were stuck furrowed like every thought running through his head was a worry.

The final notes of the song faded into the stillness of the night, Jesse hesitated, his embrace tightening around you as if reluctant to let you go. Sensing his unease, you looked up at him, concern etched in her features.

His unease wasn't difficult to sense, you pry yourself away from him to take him in completely. "Jesse, what's wrong?" You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching over your features. "I've been drafted. I received my notice this morning." His voice trembled just the slightest as he took a shaky breath.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her throat and you thought that this must be what death feels like. For a moment, the world seemed to spin out of control as the weight of Jesse's words sank in. Six years with Jesse was not enough, you needed an eternity.

"We can find a doctor to exempt you-

"You know that's not right," He spoke so softly and you knew he was speaking the truth. You could never convince Jesse to do something as heinous as faking some disease or injury to get him out of the war.

"I know," You say and he steadies himself, staring deep into your eyes and through your soul "My whole life, all I've ever known is loss and I have never cared about anything the way I care about you-

He pulls you forward into his arms, rubbing that familiar calloused hand on the small of your back to soothe you "It's all gonna be alright, love, I'll be back before you know it and then it's smooth sailing for the rest of our lives."

You copied the crook of his neck, the warmth of his arms, the curve of his nose to memory. You caught all that you could before it slipped through the empty gaps of your mind. You hadn't realized that he had been doing the same, memorizing the smell of your perfume, the texture of your hair, the way your eyes caught the light.

He told you to look to the future when he finally walked back through that door and you could dance again but the only thing you could see was the end of the world, starting with you saying goodbye to him.

July 12, 1943

My Dearest Love,

I hope this letter finds you well and in high spirits. It's been quite some time since I last wrote to you, and I apologize for the delay. The days here in Europe seem to blend into one another, filled with moments of both intense action and serene contemplation.

As I write this letter, I find myself missing you more and more. You are what keeps me going through these harrowing and relentless days

Please know that you are always in my heart, my love. No matter where I may be, you remain my constant source of hope and inspiration. I dream of the day when this war is finally over, and we can be reunited once more, never to be parted again.

Until then, stay strong, my love. Know that I am fighting for you, for us, and for a better tomorrow. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, as I do for you each and every day.

With all my love,

Jesse

December 18, 1943

My Dearest Love,

As Christmas draws near, my thoughts turn to you more than ever. I find myself reminiscing about the holidays we've shared together, specifically the weekend we spent at the cabin. How I long to be by your side once more, to hold you close and celebrate the season of peace and goodwill together.

But even amidst the turmoil of war, I see you in every good thing. Here in the trenches, my comrades and I have found solace in each other's company, we are united in our common humanity and our dreams for a home cooked meal.

I am reminded, now more than ever, of the importance of compassion in times of strife. It is love that sustains us, that gives us the strength to endure even the darkest of days. And though we may be separated by miles and oceans, our love remains as strong as ever.

As I write this letter, surrounded by the sounds of gunfire and the cries of my fellow soldiers, I find comfort in the knowledge that you are thinking of me, just as I am thinking of you. Your love is my guiding light,

This Christmas, as you gather with our loved ones know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. Though we may be apart in body, our spirits are forever intertwined, bound together by the enduring power of love.

Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May the coming year bring us closer to ending this war.

With all my love,

Jesse

March 19, 1944

My Dearest Love,

The world is now brighter than the sun because you're here, that is why I will remain giving you everything that I have.

I have been looking at the moon over and over again and wondered if you stare at it the same time as I do, please say yes. I think the battlefields are turning me into a poet, I would love some critique from a wordsmith such as yourself.

Everything here is frightening (redacted)

In light of the events I've just shared, I am looking forward more than ever to waking up and saying good morning to the sleepy woman lying next to me, that's you if you were curious. Here's to the future!

With all my love,

Jesse

August 8, 1944

My Dearest Love,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you today, for the horrors of war have taken their toll on both body and soul. The past few months have been filled with unimaginable hardship as (Redacted)

The knowledge that our sacrifices are not in vain, that we are fighting for a better future for generations yet unborn keeps these weary bones standing straight.

But oh, how I long for the comforts of home, for the warmth of your embrace and the gentle touch of your hand. In the midst of so much death and destruction, it is your love that reminds me of all the beauty that still remains in the world.

I fear that I may never see you again, my love, that this cruel war may rob us of the future we had planned together. And yet I'm not ready to give up. For as long as I draw breath, I will continue to fight for a world where love triumphs over hate, where you and I can go back to life as it was.

All of the living are dead and I have noticed an oncoming silence.

With all my love,

Jesse

May 7, 1945

My Dearest Love,

I can scarcely believe it – the war is finally over, and victory belongs to the Allies!

We won! Or we think we did, a true win would likely have less bloodshed.

But amidst the celebrations and rejoicing, my thoughts turn to you. How unmanly to cry though I find myself doing so as I write this. The thought of being reunited with you fills my heart back up despite those who have emptied it, for you are my everything, my reason for living.

I cannot wait to return home to you, my love, to begin our lives anew in a world free from the shadow of war. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers and that my love for you knows no bounds.

It looks like I'm coming home soon! I'm looking forward to some dance lessons with my one and only.

With all my love,

Jesse

Though you weren't the only one occupying the seemingly empty house, you lived with ghosts. Every step you took they lurked behind you as permanent reminders of everyone you've ever let down; months stretched into years and you clung onto each word in Jesse's letter like it was doctrine. The moment you received that final letter from Jesse you ran out into the streets and hugged the very first person you saw.

"Ellie now isn't a great time to be here," You tell her as she stands behind you in your vanity while you reapply your lipstick "Jesse's home today," You can't help the smile that stretches across your face. After years of hearing from your husband in nothing more than ink over paper, you would see him again and not just in the pictures that you had hung around every corner of the house.

"I'm here to celebrate," She says though she doesn't seem enthusiastic in the slightest. She wears black cigarette pants and a short-sleeved blouse tucked into them. You, on the other hand, had pressed your hair flat only to do it up in pin-curls, wearing your finest dress and most expensive jewelry for your husband's return home.

"If you're going to water down today, you could at the very least pretend to be happy." You were so ecstatic that you didn't even mind that Ellie had chosen today to bum around your house. For once it wouldn't be empty with nothing but your hollowed cries.

"I am happy," She answers "Are you going to wait here for him?"

You shake your head while you put in earrings that Jesse had gifted you on your third anniversary "I'm going down to the train station so I can hug him the second he sets foot back in Cape Cod."

"Nice," She nods "Have you thought about what you're going to do if it doesn't go as planned?"

You furrow your eyebrows, putting the other earring down on the vanity so you can turn back and look at her. "What do you know?" Your smile dropped at her words. Ellie isn't as unreadable as usual, she has traces of guilt across her features and that makes you all the more concerned. "Ellie, what happens?"

Before she can even open her mouth, you hear a firm knock at the front door. "That," Ellie says, you push yourself up from the vanity so fast the chair tips over. You snatch the other earring off of the vanity and awkwardly force it into your piercing as you rush down the hallway as fast as you can in your heels, clickity clack over the floorboards, Ellie trailing slowly behind you.

Your heart was pounding so fast that it reverberated in your head like an echo bouncing off the walls of your mind. A click. A slow creak and you open the door. Sun floods into the room and your heart pinches at the sight of the officer, clad in military excellence with baubles and an olive green jacket.

"Who are you?" Your stomach drops at the sight of the stranger who stands in the place where your husband should be.

The man stared at you, a certain solemn yet controlled grief lurking in his pale eyes. "Ma'am, I am Sergeant Reynolds of the 45th Infantry regiment. Are you Mrs. Midge Maisel, wife of Jesse Chang?"

Your throat went dry. "Yes," You curled your fingers inward, feeling nails push into the soft palm of your hand until the skin broke and you pushed even harder.

You didn't know who helped you sit down when you couldn't move. You only remembered fuzzy voices and the pace of your heart becoming too fast for your body to handle. There was not enough air in the world for you to swallow. The world felt so far away, as did anyone who tried to comfort you or explain the circumstances of Jesse's death.

"After Germany was concurred, he intercepted a grenade ambush from stragglers, saving the lives of many in his platoon."

Everything had stopped spinning, leaving you nauseous where Ellie sat beside you her face smeared in your vision blurry from tears.

Accept our sympathies

Funeral arrangements

The return of personal effects

Bits and pieces of Reynolds's words jumped out at you but you couldn't hear them. Restless nights for centuries were instead what clouded your mind. Outside you could hear families and friends celebrating the return of their loved ones, while you ushered the man out of your door screaming at him to leave. Music played, a celebration you would not take part in but watch bitterly from afar while you plan out the next life you will live.

Ellie begins to speak when the eery silence becomes unbearable "I know you don't want to hear it but this was inevitable-

"Leave," You mutter, resentment simmering inside of you.

"What-

"Leave," You repeat "You knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell me? You didn't stop it?"

"I can't turn the world upside down just to make you happy-

"Then why are you here?" You ask, rage carved in deep despite the tears across your face "I thought you were in love with me and that's why you won't leave me alone."

Her words fail her. She stares at you blankly, trying to scrounge up an answer that would put you both to rest. "We have a good life-

"Ellie, this is not a good life, for you maybe because you don't have to watch me suffer since you can keep skipping to the parts where I'm happy again," You correct her words, fat teardrops streaming down your face while you try to compose yourself the same way that you would a song or a speech. "I'm going to tell you now so you have to get it into your head- We are not friends, I certainly don't love you, I don't even like you and if I ever see your fucking face again, I'm bashing it in."

Bethel, America- August - 1969

If we were vampires and death was a joke, we'd still go out on the sidewalk and smoke.

They wandered through the makeshift villages that sprung up amidst the chaos, where hippies and freaks shared food and shelter, and strangers became friends in the blink of an eye. Your hand was clasped tightly with Dina's while your pupils went wide under the influence.

She refused to let go and lose you in the crowd of sweaty bodies, despite your states you understood well that you would easily lose each other in the sea of people at the music festival and wouldn't cross paths again till night time. She was wearing a turquoise bell-sleeved top paired with a skirt of all sorts of funky patterns and had on at least six beaded necklaces. You'd think that she'd be hard to miss but in this crowd, she blended in perfectly, looking a little bit like everyone else as everyone seemed to bleed together.

You were already high out of your mind the world warping around you, everything moved in frames like an old film. The ground was morphing and breathing under your feet, you giggled with each step, following behind Dina to find the rest of the little group you had come to Woodstock with.

The two of you were nowhere close to the stage, you had only partially come for the music. To you, it seemed like another historic event to add to your list. While most people sit on the ground swaying to Janis Joplin, your small circle of friends was dancing; it was something like them loosely waving their bodies around.

"No one asks me for dances because I only know how to flail!" Dina shouts, laughing so hard that she leans on you for support. You laugh too, head resting on top of Dina's. Her words weren't funny at all but everything seemed funny when fractals hoovered around your eyes. You lifted your head just slightly to see that same freckled face that had haunted you for centuries.

"Ellie!" You shouted, letting go of Dina's hand and making your way towards her, eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dina lulled in place watching you run away from her.

Ellie looked frightened that you had stuck true to your promise of bashing her face in the next time you saw her but instead, you wrapped your arms around her tightly and began to sway gingerly. It was just the beating of hearts like two drums in the rain.

"I'm sorry," You mutter into the crook of her neck. "I missed you, you should visit more."

Hesitantly, Ellie hugged you back, folding her arms around your torso and letting herself sink into you. In the past 2380 you had never hugged Ellie, you hardly touched her. She closed her eyes letting delusion flood her brain, thinking back to the first time she had seen you and then seventy years later when she realized you were immortal and every other timeline she had lived with you.

"I missed you too," She muttered, trying to ignore the fact that you were only saying this because you were high.

You pull back away from her and take her in, all dazed. You give her a boop on the nose with your index and erupt in giggles while Ellie furrows her eyebrows. An idea strikes you and it's apparent on your face as you light up, eyebrows shooting up. "You should come to tell my friends about all of your time-travelling stories!"

Ellie starts to shake her head but you pull her away despite that. She trails behind you as you refuse to let go of her hand, dragging her back to the grassy patch where your friends danced, some of them taking a quick break flat on their backs. "This is Ellie, we've been friends for a long time."

The group acknowledges her, mainly with waves and giggles but Jimmy goes the extra mile, standing up and extending a lanky arm "It's good to meet you."

"This is my best friend in the world forever!" You sling an arm around Dina, calling for Ellie's attention. Dina leaned into your touch, a drowsy smile on her face. "Ellie can actually travel through time."

You tell the group and they all look toward her, eyes squinted and bodies relaxed. Ellie didn't mind, knowing that they were too high to believe her by the time they sobered up even if they did she could go back and fix it. She nods along "It's true and she's immortal." Ellie points at you.

"No, you're not," Dina pokes you.

"I believe it," Weston speaks up from his spot on the ground where he lies with Patricia, her ash blonde hair strewn across the grass "I have never seen this woman so who am I to not believe her." As opposed to the majority of the group whose pupils were dilated from LSD, the whites of his eyes had turned red from the herbs he smoked.

Stevie is still dancing, her loose white dress rustly so slightly in the gentle breeze. Dawn dances with her, her hair the colour of fire tied neatly into two twin braids, she doesn't care about anything besides the way her feet carry her.

"One time I cut out my own heart and I ate it," You giggle, head resting on Dina. Her face was sunkissed, accentuating her freckles. She had let her dark hair run loose.

Jimmy looks at you, through his sunglasses. He has Ellie sitting next to him, his ebony skin a contrast to her paleness. "How does that work?"

"I slice my skin open and then I break my ribs, rip out my heart and shove it in my mouth.

He looks you up and down "Ribs look fine to me."

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and you see a large rock with some smaller ones stacked around it. You walk over, all eyes on you as you put your wrist on top of the larger rock.

In your free hand, you pick up a smaller jagged rock that fits into the claw of your hand. You raise the jagged stone up and smash it into your wrist with little effort after the strength you have gathered over the years.

Dina lets out a scream watching your arm bend out of shape, wrist twisted so your hand doesn't sit where it's supposed to. You bring the rock up and slam it down again, making sure to dig into your skin, flesh mangled up on your arm and you brought it up to show everyone. Jimmy scrambled to his feet in a panic, racing through the crowd to find a medic.

"No, it's healing!" You shout after Jimmy. Weston looks at your mangled arm with wide eyes before buckling onto his knees and throwing up. Dawn and Stevie pause their dancing, Dawn froze in fear and Stevie backed away. "Do you see?" You shake your arm trying to show them that the wound was fixing itself.

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and then your eyes settle on Ellie who shakes her head at you. You knew this meant she had seen the outcome and it wasn't good so you decide to drop the topic, plopping yourself onto the grass.

"Don't you wanna dance?" Dina asks.

You shake your head. You had reserved dancing for Jesse who you knew you wouldn't see again, not even in death since it would never come for you.

The day had eventually faded away into night, the concert still rang loud but you stayed far in the back of the crowd, lying on the ground with Ellie and looking at the stars. "I'm really sorry for everything you've been through," Ellie breaks the pure hum of music.

"I'm really sorry for everything you've seen," You answer. "I thought the war would finally be over," You murmur, thinking back to Jesse and the idea you conjured up of his corpse; you imagined him to be blown into a million pieces, a thought that never left your mind no matter how high you got or what you drank you knew it wouldn't end. You had thought World War two to be the last until the Vietnam War plagued the news and began to pluck men from neighbourhoods all around.

"It doesn't end, not ever," Ellie tells you.

"You should fix it."

"I've tried," There's a hint of sadness in her voice "If one ends, a new one will always spring up."

The two of you fall silent for a moment, heads side to side but you don't look at one another, only the stars. There's something so calming yet unnerving about the inky black sky; it reminded you of the nothingness that consumed you on the night you had given up your mortality.

"I don't want to live," The words fall from your lips so effortlessly. The LSD was wearing off, leaving you to be in control of your thoughts and your body all over again.

"I know."

"I've seen more men die than I can count."

"I know."

"I can't seem to hate you though."

Ellie turns her head to look at you and you do the same. Her green eyes are shining beneath the moonlight, just the shadow of her face illuminated. You lean forward just the slightest and connect your lips into a kiss, Ellie seems surprised but she doesn't fight it.

Once you pull away, you can only seem to make out one sentence "Don't leave this time."

Greenport Village, America - April - 2011

A handshake of carbon monoxide, no alarms and no surprises.

As the late afternoon sun cast its golden hues over the rolling hills of the Greenport, you made your way home planning a quick visit to the beach before doing so, arms laden with bags filled with groceries from the quaint village market, arms laden with provisions that you had no need for, save to fill the endless hours of your existence.

You walked with your timeless beauty that seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the fading light, you had called the Greenport Village home for six years now, finding a position there as a history teacher, your favourite job of the hundreds you had worked. Though the passing decades had left their mark on the landscape and its inhabitants, you remained unchanged, frozen in time like a moth preserved in amber.

You still struggled to come to terms with the fact that death would never take you though Ellie tried to make it easier. All these years and it never felt any better, it was still difficult to swallow the truth.

There was no solace to be found in the quiet beauty of the world around you. For two thousand years, you had walked the earth with Ellie, you, a solitary figure doomed to wander the endless expanse of time and her, the shadow that trailed behind and mocked your existence without intending to. You had seen kingdoms rise and fall, witnessed the birth and death of countless generations, and yet you remained unchanged, untouched by the ravages of time. All of the identification you had forged didn't make you into who you said you were.

Walking towards the beach, you could've sworn that you recognized every face you saw but that was just how long you had lived; everyone you've ever known slowly bleeding into everyone else like a suicide cleanup. You would outlive the kids playing on the seesaw and the toddlers scrambling around them, you would outlive their offspring too and every other generation after that.

Eventually, you found yourself in your usual spot in the park, an old beaten bench outlooking the sea where sunlight danced off of it like sparks.

After the seventies, you had accepted that the land was your only friend, ever-changing just like you, yet it remained miraculously intact. You had Ellie, on occasion, though calling her a friend would be a loose term. You weren't sure what she was but butterflies and maggots had a field in your intestines every time you thought of all of the things she knew about you and how little you know of her.

The lack of trust always lingered. You never knew if she had gone back in time and forced you to forget about something she said or something you asked. How many times had you begged her to go back to the beginning and let you ebb away with old age?

As you sat in silent contemplation, lost in the labyrinth of your centuries-old thoughts, a frail figure approached, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. It was an old woman, her face etched with the lines of a life well-lived, her eyes twinkling with a spark of something you couldn't make out.

You shifted slightly on the bench, making room for her unexpected companion. The old woman, her steps slow and deliberate, lowered herself onto the seat beside you, exhaling a contented breath as she settled into place.

For a long moment, you sat in companionable silence, each lost in your own reverie. "You must be an old soul," The woman next to you speaks, covered in sunspots and wrinkles, grey and white streaks all through her black hair. "When you're old all you want to do is sit and stare at the scenery."

"Yeah," You give her a tight-lipped smile "I'm mature at heart."

The woman furrows her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought as her brown eyes rake over every single one of your features, studying you like scripture. "I'm sorry," She shakes her head "You just look like a girl I used to know."

"Really?" You ask and then it strikes you like lightning. Despite the withering of her face, it's the same bump of her nose, the freckles across her skin, the curve of her jaw, it was your Dina.

She waves it off "She's long gone by now, haven't heard from her in years." Dina looks off to the ocean, the screech of kids is far off in the distance. Her face drops just the slightest at the mention of this.

"Who was she?" You press, just wanting to hear Dina's voice after decades of replaying memories and performing autopsies on expired conversations like you could somehow revive them and the people who came with.

"Oh, um," Dina hadn't expected you to carry on the conversation, people had stopped caring about what she had to say when time hit her and dragged her skin down. "A friend of mine, way back before you were born. If you could see her, gosh," Dina mutters, salt and pepper hair braided down her back "You could've been her twin."

Your heart was slamming against your ribcage like it wanted to be set free. "Uh, I'm sorry if this seems odd," You say with a shakey breath "But could you just keep talking? I don't want to have to think right now."

Her eyebrows knit together just the slightest, concern growing with your words "About what?"

"Just," You shrug "Reminisce maybe," Nearby there were birds on a wire chirping, it felt like every one of them was talking to you, beedy eyes prying into your veins "I just like stories."

Dina slips a small smile, her teeth not quite as white as they used to be but her smile holds all of the comforts nonetheless "My stories are no good, I'm sure you'll have better ones when you're my age."

You shake your head on impulse, grasping the pieces of her that you still held close to your ancient heart. "No, I don't think I'll get there," You aren't trying to ramble yet here you are, scrambling to reconnect the two of you like this is a film that ends well.

Her smile falters, trying to comprehend the odd woman beside her, beginning to contemplate that you're high on something, suspicion growing more solid with each shake of your hands and blink of your watery eyes. "Are you alright?" She lowers her voice.

"Yup," You nod, already feeling her slip through the space between your fingers all over again like she had years prior. At this point in your life, you should've been a better liar but you just sat there, tears rolling down silently while you forced your teeth to bear a smile. You wanted to tell her how nice it was to see her and remind her of all of the days and nights alike you had wasted on each other.

It was easy to see how she didn't believe you, from your trembling hands gripping your thighs in an attempt to steady them to the manufactured smile you wore on your face, sadness seeping from your pores. Unlike Dina, you felt that age had made you no wiser. Years you spent studying and chasing careers just to end up faking death and restarting all over again from scraps, losing a little piece of yourself every time.

She places one of her calloused and withered hands over yours where it grasps to the fabric over your thighs. She meets your gaze "Whatever it is, you'll be okay."

Something inside you shifts, then cracks, and crumbles completely. The agonizing pain accumulated by thousands of years spilled out of you in the form of tears as salty as the ocean spray that simmered on your skin. It was like every awful thing you had ever felt was going to burst through the gaps of your teeth.

There was entirely too much going on in your head when you inched forward and wrapped your arms around Dina, chin resting on her neck. It took a minute but you felt her bony hands rest on your back while she returned the gesture, albeit confused.

You were glad you got to see her again. Every time someone passes through your life you think of all of the things you would do to speak to them one more time. You had finally been given a blessing, something that balanced out the bitterness of eternity. "I'm sorry, Dina."

The second you spoke you regretted it. With what little grace you have left you manage to pry yourself up, sheepishly standing to your feet and trying not to wobble like a colt. Dina's bygone face held more confusion than ever, mouth slightly ajar as she watched you with wide eyes like a doe. "Honey, I think you have the wrong person."

Your feet move faster than your head, not leaving Dina behind a second time but a complete stranger. You had only been sick with nostolgia. Panic shot through your veins like box cutters trying to find their way to your heart, which they surely would.

Your day's shopping had been left behind at the bench along with all of the dreams you once etched into indigo skies and sandy shores, now all they did was rot at your feet, at least they had the pleasure of aging.

The feeling of screaming was creeping up your body in shivers, you hugged yourself all the way home, swivelling your head every minute to be sure that ghosts weren't following you but they always had a way of sneaking up on you.

What purpose did you serve? Anything mildly important you had ever done was lost to time, gone, forgotten. You didn't get the luxury of having children with the one you love, you didn't even have anyone to love. You drag your mud-covered heels all the way up the steps of your stoop slamming the door behind you.

With trembling hands and a mind consumed by anguish, you began to tear through her home with frenzied desperation, your movements fueled by a maelstrom of emotions too powerful to contain, the urge-no, the need to die. You ripped books from their shelves, their pages fluttering like wounded birds as they scattered across the floor in a flurry. You overturned furniture with reckless abandon, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing through the empty rooms like a orchestra of destruction.

You open your cabinets, dragging your hands behind all of the ceramic and glass, pushing it to the ground and watching them shatter at your feet. What need did you have for a fridge full of food when you don't have to eat? Or a feathered bed when you don't need to sleep, you can't even bring yourself to sleep these days.

Each crash and thud seemed to reverberate through your empty, a haunting reminder of the pain and turmoil that threatened to consume her from within. Memories, once cherished and dear, now lay shattered and broken like all of the ambition you should have forgotten, fragments of an overwhelming life that had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

With a guttural cry of anguish, you sank to your knees amidst the wreckage, body racked with sobs that seemed to tear at your very core. You clutched at your hair in despair, her fingers intertwined in the tangled strands like thorns in a bed of roses.

Your eyes snagged on the cabinet below your sink. You crawl over to it, shards of shattered glassware sticks into the soft palms of your hands, porcelain china cutting up your knees. It didn't even feel like anything, you just wanted to feel something.

You pull the cabinet open pushing the other cleaning supplies aside and grabbing the ammonia and bleach. Twisting the caps of and discarding them among the wreckage, you take a deep breath before raisng the bottle of bleach to your lips and drinking, the harsh and ancrid taste making you cringe but you kept swallowing until you could feel a burning in your throat, taking a quick shallow breath and then doing the same with the ammonia, tears brimming your eyes and hitting the few beams of sunlight that struck through your closed curtains like the glimmer from the ocean.

God, it tasted rancid but for a moment, a brief one it had felt like death or something similar. Mouth feeling like plastic throat burnt to rubber you drank until both bottles were empty. You pressed yourself as flat as you could on the floor, soaking in the last moments of feeling as your insides contorted before stillness.

All of the cells you killed were fixing themselves up and after a minute, you felt numb like you tended to. You hiccup, body jerking upwards just the slightest, a spat of vomit now dribbling at you chin.

Deep inside of you, you knew Ellie would be back to fix your wreckage and leave you oblivious to the destruction you not only caused but craved. She would just keep going back until you help something on the spectrum of happy.

Define happy.

Smiling?

Joking?

Laughing?

Not digging through the dictionary to find new ways to try to kill yourself?

That last one sounds right.

"Ellie, I can't do this anymore!" You screeched hoarsely to the empty room, despite the freckled girl being nowhere in sight. "Can you please let me die now!"

You call for her until your throat is as dry as sandpaper, hollow words scraping themselves dry before they can leave your mouth. Your voice is reduced to a pathetic rasp and you pray that she regrets stealing blood from your veins.

"Please!" You scream, fingers gripping onto the marble counter to haul yourself up. You stumble for a moment as you adjust to the jagged shards you stand on. "I know we've done this before but you'll just lie and make me sound like I'm fucking crazy," A sob falls from your mouth like a howl.

You pull a long kitchen knife from the knife block, and watch the silver blade glimmer, a warped reflection of yourself staring back at you. With little hesitation, you plummet it into your stomach, again and again until your midriff is a mangled fleshy mess. Blood pooling out of you like cherry wine. Nothing new.

"Asshole!" You cry out "I know you're hiding around here somewhere!" Your mind immediately went to how many times this situation had played out, on this same day. Maybe you had done something worse.

Lungs burning from screaming, cries throbbing inside of your throat, you have one last idea that had to have happened before. "Can you please stop?"

You turn to face the voice, hair matted, clothes torn and bloody, vomit from makeshift mustard gas sliding down your chin to your neck. You drop the knife, it clatters against the tiles "No," You approach her, each step more certain than the last. "You need to stop, this isn't right."

"I know," She says, face stone-cold a hint of irritation in her tone. She's back in her grey hoodie and jeans, finally, she fits into the time period.

"If you know then why have I been pleading with you to go back to the start and stop me from dying in the first place and making that deal?" You're inches away from her, voice carrying challenge if not bitterness. "Like I've asked you over and over again." Your voice is unsteady like it's being crushed beneath the weight of the world.

"Because I love you," She says, raising one hand to cup your face.

If it were for the chemicals flattering through the air making you nauseous, this act alone almost brought you to your knees with sickness. You don't bother to move her hand though, just shuddering under the touch. "Do you really?"

She nods, gaze softening "Yes."

"Then you'll go back and you'll fix all of this right?"

Her hand falls from its resting spot on your face. "You want to forget?"

"No, I want to die." Silence falls between you. Each rise and fall of your chest shaky and ragged "You keep forgetting that I'm a person, I'm not a concept you've curated in your head." It was hard to find yourself being gentle to her. It was hard to feel bad for her in general with how she treated your entire being as something for her to tune in and out of as she pleased.

Ellie takes a breath in, eyes unwavering from yours "Okay."

"Okay?" You don't believe her "You'll fix this and you'll leave me alone and let me live a regular life without knowing you?" You breathe the moment in, the hopes that this will be over soon. The taste of heartache and war could be washed away from your mouth, you wouldn't meet Joel and watch his daughter die in front of him or meet Jesse and fall in love. The humiliation to be made of rotting flesh then it hits you- how many times have you had this conversation? "I want you to promise-

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

I prayed for your breath right here in the shallows.

This time around, Ellie doesn't intervene. She watched you, panic-stricken, fumble over wet sand and glide past slick rocks. Trying to outrun your fears of wasting your life.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until Ellie kneeled down next to your body and gingerly guided it into the ocean for it to take. The blood from the wound in the back of your head is sucked away into the sand. She watched your corpse drift out and get pulled down, all she needed was another lifetime with you. You didn't know how miserable you were with her anyway.

This is not a story about love.

A/N: guys I’m breaking hiatus to post this bc I realised it’s been hanging in my drafts for a century (century haha) Anyways I actually hate this but it felt too long to scrap so thanks for reading.

Perm tag list: @ellslvr @gold-dustwomxn @bready101 @whenlostinthedarkness @veeveeisgay @vqxen

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rrickgrrimes8 · 1 year

Text

Your Bear

summary: Joel Miller doesn’t just lose Sarah that night but his other daughter too. but maybe you can still be found. (part II)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader -- she/her pronouns used & AFAB

warnings: guns, violence, angst, mentions of death, birth, hurt/comfort, happy ending ;) (kinda), no spoilers for part 2/canon divergent

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open!

word count: 3.2k

Joel Miller was always a good father - no matter what he thought. He cared for his girls more than he cared about anything in his damn life. So when they were both taken from him... there was nothing left to care about.

It was Sarah first.

He held Sarah as she died. His shirt was still stained with her blood. The watch on his wrist shattered by his failure.

But his other daughter, you, looking back he can only imagine the worst.

It all happened so fast. He had Sarah in his arms she gasped for air that was growing distant by the second, while Tommy watched with a pained look.

You, however, no one was watching you. Only 5 years old - you didn’t understand a thing. And so when you heard a loud noise. When you saw your sister go down and hearing the cries of both your father and her you panicked.

You thought you were getting help. That’s what’s your dad always told you to do if something bad happened. “Find the nearest phone or adult. Call me or Tommy or this number, okay? 911. Remember that number babygirl.”

And you did.

You ran as quick as you could, which wasn’t all that impressive but it was fast enough for them not to notice you had gone.

By the time you had found your way back into town, Tommy had noticed. “J-Joel,” His voice wavered, fear taking hold. Tommy searched the clearing, calling your name.

Joel looked away from his limp daughter then. His heart was thumping in his chest. His ribs ached as did the wound on his side but nothing compared to the terror that tore through his whole body.

“W-where is she?” His eyes darted over the area but you were no where to be found.

“No, Tommy,” He sobbed already fearing the worst, “T-tommy not her, please.”

Tommy shuddered. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real. You were just here. Sarah was just here.

“Joel,” He began until he heard shrill, painfully familiar scream from off in the distance.

“No,” Joel cried looking down at Sarah, hesitating just for a moment before setting her down, “I’m sorry baby.”

Tommy was already running at that point, hoping not to be late, not like he was for Sarah. Joel screamed your name as he sprinted - he couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t lose you, his babygirl.

When he got there he saw Tommy knelt beside a bloodied teddy bear.

Your bear.

He collapsed. Knees giving way. He pulled the bear of the ground, its white fur tormented by the red hue.

Tommy shouted your name a few times. Joel didn’t have the energy to bother. His answer was here.

You were only five. You’d never have survived on your own.

And he would never survive without you, without his girls. He hugged the bear as if it was your body and he never let go.

“Why’d you have a bear in your bag?” Ellie teased as she caught sight of an fluffy ear sticking out.

Joel clenched his jaw, stuffing the teddy back inside. “What?” She laughed innocently, “Is it for your bad dreams? Chase the monsters away?”

The man grunted, discarding the bag on one of the chairs - away from Ellie’s view, “None of your business.”

Ellie frowned as she caught his eye. The brown was darker than usual, which was really saying something. They were empty, hollow but at the same time watery. Like he was one step away from crying. She shook the thought off - this was Joel she was talking about. Joel never cried, not in front of her - not really... She didn’t even think he could cry. But his eyes told her something else. They told an unspoken story. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But one, at the same time, she needed to hear.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, moving into the living room of the house Tommy and Maria had given them.

Joel sighed as she did, guilt running through his veins. “Sorry,” He called out, gruffly, stopping her in her escape. Ellie turned back waiting for him to continue. “it was...” He cleared his throat roughly, “The bear was my daughters.”

“Oh,” She whispered, looking up at the man with sympathy, “If i had known it was Sarah’s... i wouldn’t have said anything.”

Joel sucked in a breath, turning towards the cupboards behind him, grabbing a cup. “Wasn’t hers,” He corrected trying not to let his voice catch on the lump forming in his throat.

“What?” Ellie dared a step closer, “But Sarah was... is your daughter.” Joel bit his tongue, forcing himself to face her again. “Joel?”

He let out a watery sigh, eyes set on the ground, “I had... i had another daughter.” He spoke your name softly but with fear. He hadn’t said it in years - he couldn’t. He hadn’t spoken about you in nearly 20 years either. He hated to talk about you. It was hard enough letting Ellie in, letting her know about his past, about Sarah. But it was too hard to say your name. You were only a baby. His baby.

“I didn’t know. You never mentioned her,” Ellie almost felt guilty asking - like this was something she should’ve known. That she should’ve known wasn’t something you just bring up.

“Yeah,” He scrunched his face a little, the feeling of your loss rushing back.

He thought and he believed for a time that if he didn’t talk about you, about the way he failed you then all that hurt would go away. He was wrong. He saw you every night in his dreams. He saw the woman you grew up to become. He saw your smile and heard your laugh. But then he’d wake up alone. He was always alone.

The worst was when the dream felt real. You were a baby again, Sarah was young too. It was just the three of you. You’d be doing something mundane - watching TV, eating dinner, whatever. He’d have conversations with the pair of you, forgetting that none of it was real. He’d hold you to his chest, sing to you, make you laugh. He’d dance with Sarah to their beat up radio in the kitchen. He would watch you take your first steps, say your first words, form your first smile.

But he’d always wake up. He hated waking up.

“How old was she?” She dared to ask.

Shakily he replied, “Five.”

She fell silent after that. Five. Five years old. Joel lost a five year old - no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, idiot.

Ellie thought for a moment, a question daring to fall from her lips. “But she’s wasn’t on the memorial at Tommy’s.”

Joel’s head snapped up, anger residing in his chest. Who he was mad at he didn’t know. Himself? Tommy? Ellie? You? “Tommy... he,” He huffed, “He doesn’t believe she’s gone. Holds out hope on that fucking plaque - fuckin’ delusional.”

Ellie leant against the countertop, eyes not leaving the man for just a second, “Why would he think that?”

“No body,” His voice was cold all of a sudden as if it meant nothing at all. As if he wasn’t talking about the body of his five year-old.

“But then she could be-“

“Don’t,” He snapped, “Don’t say another word.”

Ellie rolled her eyes but complied. Joel turned back to his cup, filling it with coffee he had just traded for. He didn’t speak until he was finished and even then he wished he hadn’t.

“We heard her scream... And we found-“ He grimaced, gesturing to his bag, “And we found that damn bear.”

“But,” She tried again.

“Ellie-“

“No, seriously, if all you found was a bear she could still be-“

Without another word, Joel stormed past her, ripping the bag open, slamming the bear onto her chest.

Ellie saw it now.

She understood the haunting look in his eyes. She understood the story it told. It was matted, showed its age. What once was white was red now.

All of it.

Not just a patch here and there.

Everywhere.

It reminded her of Joel.

“That look like she could be alive to you?” He shouted.

“Fuck,” She felt sick just looking at it let alone touching it.

“You kept it?” A voice called from behind her.

Joel met his brothers eyes. “‘Course i did,” He spoke defensively.

“Joel,” He simpered. They stared at each other for a while. Almost like they were having a silent conversation.

Until Joel spoke, “It’s all i have of her left.”

And there was nothing else to say.

Years had gone by since they had gotten to Jackson. And things were surprisingly good. Eerily good. It was the type of good that Joel knew deep down wouldn’t last. It was the type of good that only existed before this mess.

Every morning he would wake up here he had a weight on his chest. A feeling that something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm, he’d remind himself.

He didn’t tell anyone about it. He couldn’t. He’d just sound paranoid.

Him and Ellie were on a run. It was simple - it always was. The people in charge at the commune never liked to overstep - go to far. Never liked to do what Joel craved.

All they had to do was scope out a few cabins that were spotted deep in the woods. Ellie had jumped at the proposition as soon as Tommy had suggested it. She hated being cooped up for so long - Jackson could only give you so much freedom.

And just because Ellie agreed he knew he had to as well. There was no way in hell he’d let her go out risking her life when there was no way he’d be able to save it.

Getting there was the easy part. The horses at Jackson were a godsend. When they got there the place was still. Ellie gave Shimmer a soft pat before joining Joel who was stalking up to the door. He knocked first - not out of curtesy, just to attract any infected that it may hold. Because that’s what they expected. But Joel should’ve known better.

Joel should’ve thought about their biggest threat - people.

They had only cleared two rooms when Joel felt the cold sting of mental on his temple.

Ellie gasped but kept her gun up, eyes trained on the figure that held Joel’s life in their hands. “Put it down,” The voice ordered.

“Like hell I will,” Ellie retorted, finger edging closer to the trigger.

“I said put it down or the old man gets it,” She forced the barrel against his head - so hard he was sure it would bruise.

“Jesus, fuck, okay,” Ellie mumbled, slowly setting her gun on the floor infront of her, “Just let him go?”

The woman laughed, “So you can kill me, yeah, no thanks.”

“We can work this out,” Joel tried, hands raising to show he was unarmed but it only aggravated her more. Her arm wrapped around his neck, making him stumble back into a chokehold.

“Hey!” She yelled at Ellie as she reached for a gun. The teen stopped, taking a few steps back.

“Just put it down. We can work this out,” Joel proposed, gasping as she applied pressure to his neck, “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” She spat, breathing heavily, “What the fuck else are you here for then, huh?”

“Supplies,” Ellie told her, “We’re from a commune-“

“Ellie-“

“We can take you back there - help you. If you just put the gun down.”

“Bullshit,” The woman removed the gun from Joel’s head aiming it now at Ellie, “You’ll kill me the first chance you get.”

Ellie shook her head, going to respond before Joel gripped the woman’s arm flipping her over. She gasped as she forcefully hit the ground, splinters from the wooden floor embedded into her spine.

Her breathing picked up, hand scrambling to get to the gun he had knocked out of her hand but a foot stopped her.

Joel’s boot pressed harshly against her wrist, “Don’t.”

“Christ Joel,” Ellie huffed, “You scared the fuck out of me.” Joel watched her as she reached down to get her discarded gun. Ellie laughed as she caught her breath, “Where the hell did that come from? You’re like 80.”

“Ellie,” He scolded with a strict look.

“Right, sorry,” She chuckled.

“So this is when you kill me then,” The woman heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Joel turned to her then, catching her eyes for the first time. He faltered, boot leaving her wrist as he took a step back.

She was a spitting image of... you.

No.

“Shouldn’t’ve tried to kill us, i guess,” Ellie retorted humourlessly.

“You came into my house,” She shot back.

“This is your house,” Ellie muttered, “Needs some work. Right, contractor?” She shot a look over her shoulder at Joel. The man was pale, breathless. His eyes were trained on his attacker with a foreign look she couldn’t decipher.

“Joel?”

“Name,” He ordered, gun pointed down at her but both of them could see it shake.

“What?” She coughed, struggling to understand the strangers.

“Your name, what is it?” He yelled.

“Jesus,” She almost let herself laugh - she would’ve if she wasn’t so shit scared.

Joel gave her a stern look so she said it. She spoke your name.

Ellie’s lips parted, confusion leaving her face, “Holy shit.”

Joel’s expression crumbled as did the grip on his gun, which now hung loosely at his side. “Last name?” He asked, voice a mere whisper.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Answer.”

“It’s Miller, Christ,” She answered, “What the hell is the matter with you people?”

Joel’s knees felt weak, his breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. You died. You were gone.

“Joel is she-“

“Stand up,” He told you.

Hesitantly you did as he said, struggling slightly as your injuries caught up to you. Seeing this Joel stepped forward, hand outstretched. With an odd look in your eye you took it - ignoring how the mans eyes lingered on it for a second too long.

“Are you alone?” Fearfully you shook your head. “Where?” He ordered.

You shook your head again, “Please don’t- You can’t. I was just trying to protect her.”

“Who?” Ellie spoke up, despite it not feeling like her place to be in this conversation.

“M-my,” You started but a cry interrupted, echoing through the cabin.

You didn’t think for a second before you ran out of the room. Joel cursed as you did, going to rush out after you before Ellie spoke up, “What are we doing here, Joel?”

“I-“ He paused, shaking his head and leaving the room.

“Is it her?” She questioned, following closely behind him, “Is it really her?”

He gave her stern look as he entered the room you escaped into. His eyes blurred as he saw you with a baby to your chest.

“Please don’t,” You held up your free hand, stopping them, “You can’t- not her.”

“Holy fuck,” Ellie gaped, “You have a fucking kid!”

“Ellie!” The baby fussed in your arms, cries escaping despite your comfort.

“Please leave,” You beg, “Just let us go. I know i messed up. I didn’t want to hurt you guys but i- i couldn’t let you find her.”

“It’s okay,” Joel spoke softly, a type of softness you wouldn’t expect a man like him to be capable of. He holstered his gun, carefully and moved his hands where you could see them.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” He told you, “Ellie, put your gun away.” Ellie did as he said.

“So leave,” You pulled your child closer to your chest.

“We can’t do that,” Joel said.

“Why?”

“Because he’s-“

“Ellie, don’t,” He cut her off, turning back to you, “We weren’t lying before. We have a commune - it’s safe. You’ll be safe there. You both will be.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, repeating the same question, “Why?”

“B-because you’ve got a kid,” He lied, “We can’t leave you here to die.”

“I don’t trust you,” You frowned. Joel mirrored your action, looking around the room at the makeshift cot you had constructed. He felt his heart ache when he spotted a blood stain on the carpet in the corner - you had given birth here, alone. You went through that alone.

“Please,” Ellie spoke up, “You won’t survive out here. You need somewhere safe. And maybe you don’t trust us, that’s okay but we’re honest. We want to help you.”

Hesitantly, you nodded after a few minutes, anxiety building in your chest.

Joel’s eyes were still stuck to the bloodied patch and he was reminded again of how he failed you. How he failed Sarah. He thought about that damn bear. The bear that he thought was the last part of you he had. And despite the pain in his chest and the ringing in his ears he was so glad he was wrong.

“What’s her name?” Ellie asked as she took a tentative step forward.

You didn’t flinch, you wanted to but a part of you, a naive, childish part, wanted to believe them. “Sarah,” You returned, pinching your girls cheeks causing her to smile.

Joel’s eyes filled with tears, tears he had been trying to suppress for the past 20 minutes. For the past 20 years.

Sarah. His Sarah. Your Sarah.

Ellie’s eyes snapped to Joel. He almost felt embarrassed, showing this side of him. Showing his weakness.

“She’s beautiful,” He whispered.

You smiled as he spoke, kissing the side of Sarah’s head. “She is,” You kissed her again before whispering - more to her than them, “My babygirl.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #the last of us #the last of us imagine

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.

Word Count | 4.2k

Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.

That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t.

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense.

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it.

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative.

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head.

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh.

“What if we ask Joel?”

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?”

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.”

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran.

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.”

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?”

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.”

“What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.”

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.”

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?”

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick.

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks.

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.”

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.”

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.”

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all.

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?”

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?”

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.”

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable.

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.”

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.”

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper.

“He said yes.”

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms.

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.”

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet.

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening.

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot.

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him.

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug.

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night.

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip.

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?”

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed.

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?”

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.”

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him.

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit.

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it.

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.”

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.”

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked.

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single.

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….”

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room.

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath.

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you.

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.”

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress.

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks.

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far.

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin.

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt.

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt.

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.”

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it.

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.”

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you.

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.”

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply.

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself.

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.”

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest.

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious.

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close.

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.”

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure.

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take.

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip.

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.”

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.”

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.”

Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him.

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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months

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BAD BLOOD pt 4

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con (for Tommy), big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, m/f!oral, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), anal, rough sex, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (light), alcohol consumption, swearing, Tommy can pick up reader.

Summary: you finally get what you want.

Word count: 4.7k

A/n: this is filthy y’all! Enjoy💖 also in the next part it’s gonna go down so stay tuned! As always big thank you and also kisses and hugs to @milla-frenchy for the encouragement and valuable advice!😘❤️

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

*****

Tommy can’t believe that it’s happening. It feels like a dream. And he’s had so many about you. His sleeping mind was tortured by the images of you on your knees, your mouth open and ready to welcome his throbbing cock, or splayed on the dinner table, legs open and pussy waiting to be stuffed by him. He used to brush them off, feeling embarrassed and guilty the next morning when you’d say ‘hi’ to him in the kitchen. They subsided when you left for another year of college, only to return with a new force after you came back for the holidays.

He used to tell himself that he’d never do anything about it. He’d never do it to Jess, to you. Your youth should be carefree and not burdened by your middle aged stepfather wanting to fuck you.

But this summer it got so much worse. It seemed like you were testing him, his sanity, his loyalty to his wife, your mother. Everything you wore called for his hungry eyes, your every move, laugh, smile made his cock twitch in his pants. He took too many cold showers. It started to get ridiculous. So he decided to give himself a way out. He jerked off to the thought of you almost every day. He pumped his throbbing member in the bathroom after seeing you in a flowy summer dress. The image of you on the grass with your ass in the air, pussy glistening under the bright summer sun pushed him over the edge and after a few moments of ecstasy he felt sick. With himself, with his dick, with his life.

When Joel asked him ‘that’ question whatever wall he had built in his mind fell apart. The way you talked to him that night at the bar made it impossible to deny it. Impossible to stop it from happening. He needed to fuck you.

***

Tommy was mere minutes from his desire becoming reality. You’re on his lap, straddling him, your naked pussy pressed tightly to his bulge.

“Fuck, angel, you have a knock out ass,” Joel comments driving the three of you home through the dark streets and glancing from time to time at the way you’re grinding against your stepdad’s clothed cock.

“Thank you, uncle Joel,” you purr, parting from Tommy’s neck with a pop. A flash of a streetlight eliminates a darkening hickey on his skin that you’ve left for Jess to find.

Your bra and panties are long gone, stuffed into your purse. Tommy’s hands are kneading your ass cheeks and you pull your neckline down before pushing your naked breasts into his face. He immediately takes your nipple in his mouth and starts sucking and licking, his groans sending vibrations against your sensitive skin.

“Oh, daddy,” you whimper and he thrusts his hips into you making you jump on his crotch.

He lifts his face to you and you meet his gaze, so full of affection and need you wonder where and how he’s been hiding all that.

***

When Joel parks the car at the driveway you get off your stepdad and, after fixing your dress, jump out of the car trying not to flash the neighbors with your pussy. The night covers up his company but Tommy still tries to keep his distance out in the street. Yet as soon as you open the door and walk in he grabs you and spins you to face him. His mouth crashes on yours and he devours you like the tastiest fruit he’s ever had.

Joel enters and comes up to you two placing his big hand on your ass. You part from your stepdad and look at the men, your eyes shiny with excitement.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you offer while your head is spinning with possibilities of what they’re going to do to you.

Joel hums and pouts his lips seemingly chill about your invitation but his bulge is the biggest you’ve seen on him and you know that you’re the reason. You smirk and open your mouth, ready to diss him, but instead a gasp leaves your lips when Tommy bends down, presses his shoulder to your middle and lifts you off your feet. You clutch the shirt on his back scared of falling but he’s holding you tight so you start giggling.

“What the fuck? What are you doing?”

“The bed will wait”, he says and slaps your ass and pussy lips which are fully exposed in this position.

You tilt your head up gawking at Joel with wide eyes but he just chuckles following you two,

“Daddy knows best, angel.”

To your surprise Tommy takes you to the dining room. He carefully lowers you and sets you down on the dining table.

“Lie down for me, babygirl,” he mutters and manhandles you on your back along the surface and then stands between your legs, at the head of the table. You turn your head to the side and see Joel leaning against the wall with a smug smile on his face.

You lift yourself up on your elbows and look at Tommy with an eyebrow raised,

“I think a bed would be more comfortable, daddy.”

He places his big hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down making the ache in your core burn brighter. You open your thighs wider and he looks at your pussy exhaling a soft ‘yeah’.

Then he turns back, grabs a chair and sits down. You see his face between your thighs and feel your pussy clench and gush more.

Tommy pulls you closer to him and you place your feet on his thighs. He takes them in his hands and takes your shoes off one and then the other.

“Always wanted to eat your sweet pussy at this table instead of Jess’s dry turkey,” Tommy says as he puts your bare feet on the table, your knees bent and your pussy perfectly on display for him.

You moan, lowering your head back on the surface as your heart is booming in your ears.

“H-how long have you wanted me, Tommy?” you ask, trying to keep your cool but inwardly screaming with joy at his confession.

“Long enough to know exactly what I wanna do to you,” he mumbles and in the next moment you feel his warm lips on your cold wet pussy. You gasp and look up seeing him push his tongue between your folds and start making out with your cunt. You whimper and turn to Joel who’s still leaning against the wall watching your stepdad feast on your pussy nonchalantly like it’s some half decent cable porn. His eyes are dark and you know his cock wants to come out to play judging by his massive bulge but he waits, not wishing to interrupt you two. ‘Fuck,’ you think, ‘He really wants his brother back in Austin’.

You return your eyes to your stepdad whose curly hair is tickling the insides of your thighs now as his tongue circles around your clit and then slides down finding your dripping hole before he starts fucking his hot muscle into you.

You moan loudly with every thrust, your legs trembling and stomach heaving with an upcoming orgasm. You run your fingers through his hair and he growls against your flesh. The vibrations make you arch your back with pleasure as you tilt your head back whimpering,

“Fuck… daddy.”

Suddenly you hear Joel’s voice, gruff and calm, as he walks to the wet bar,

“Want some whiskey with your pussy, Tommy?”

Tommy smiles against your folds and parts from them for a second to reply, “Nah, she’s fucking juicy. Might need a napkin.”

He looks up at you and winks as you smile back at him biting your lip. Then he dives back and starts gently sucking on your clit. You’re about to unravel when you see Joel coming up to the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his cock in the other. You curse through your whimpers seeing his huge member pulsating and throbbing, his dark pink head glistening with smeared pre cum. You know you did it to him and pride blooms in your heart.

“Mind if I play with her mouth, ‘daddy’?” Joel asks, making his voice higher to parody you when he says the last word.

Tommy seems to be lost in the process of eating you out and just hums. Joel takes it as a ‘yes’ and after grabbing your shoulders pulls you closer to the end of the table and to his cock.

“Open wide, tongue out,” he commands after taking a sip of the liquor and placing the glass on the table above your head. You watch his cock bob over your face and your mouth waters.

You do what he’s told you - open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

“Good girl,” Joel praises you while Tommy is making out with your cunt. You buck your hips into his mouth looking for an increase of pace but he’s meticulous and slow in pleasuring you.

Suddenly Joel slaps your cheek with his cock leaving a wet precum spot on your skin.

“Focus, angel,” he says as he rubs the tip against your lips. You chase it with your tongue and reach up but he takes your cheeks between his fingers and squeezes with a groan,

“Suck on my balls first, then I’ll see if you deserve my cock, little slut.”

You glare up at him but your anger subsides when Tommy’s fingers enter your wet hole. You feel the ache of a stretch so it must be two or three digits.

“Give some love to your uncle, babygirl,” Tommy says as he’s watching your cunt suck in his thick fingers.

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl and both men sneer at your obedience.

Joel manhandles your head under his cock and after cupping his sack places it in your open mouth. You lick and suck on his balls which are smooth and warm while Joel is stroking himself lazily. With a free hand he tugs down your neckline and starts playing with your breasts, twisting your nipples, kneading your flesh which adds to your pleasure.

You focus on one of his balls, suck and roll it gently with your tongue. You moan and hear Joel’s voice join you. The sound makes your pussy flutter around Tommy’s fingers and when you switch your attention to the other ball, your stepdad pushes on your soft spot a couple of times and ecstasy overtakes every cell of your body. Your cries are muffled by Joel’s balls lying heavy on your tongue.

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out as you’re clenching his fingers hard and then lowers his face to lick off your cum.

Joel takes his balls away and leans down watching your face twist with ecstasy.

“Just like that, angel. Good little slut.”

Your eyes lock before he leans lower and kisses you plunging his tongue into your mouth. The taste of whiskey and Joel invades all your senses and you answer his kiss hungrily grasping his shoulders.

You part from your step uncle when you hear Tommy’s voice and see him standing next to Joel now.

“Daddy’s turn, babygirl.”

Joel steps away grabbing his glass and emptying it in one go, his cock hard in his hand.

Tommy helps you to sit up on the edge of the table and lifts you up. You kiss him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smells and tastes like you.

“Let’s take the slut to bed, Tommy,” Joel rasps and you feel his hand engulf the back of your head.

Tommy’s lips leave you and he looks into your eyes,

“Where do you want us to fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Your bedroom, please,” you purr with an innocent smile. You mean their bedroom on their marital bed and when he hears it, his upper lip twitches. For a second fear grips your heart when you think he’s disgusted with you, reminded of his brutal betrayal of his wife.

But in a flash his lips are caressing yours with vigor. His mouth slides to your neck and he harshly sucks in your skin there making you cry out.

“Fuckin’ dirty girl. Wanna be fucked in your mama’s bed, on her favourite sheets,” he growls into your neck and then heads to the stairs holding you in his arms.

***

When you three get into the master bedroom their hands are immediately all over you and you feel too hazy and drunk on endorphins to know who’s taking off your dress, whose lips are sucking hickies into your neck. Soon Tommy and you are sitting naked on the foot of the bed as you’re straddling him. The nightstand lamps are illuminating your bodies with dim and soft light. He’s kissing you gently as his cock nests between your bodies and you’re slowly grinding your soaked pussy against it.

Suddenly you feel a big hand wrap around the base of your throat and move up to your jaw applying pressure and tilting your head up. You don’t fight it and look up seeing Joel’s face hovering over yours.

“Are you gonna be good for us, baby?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but takes your chin between his fingers and opens your mouth. You widen your eyes in confusion until he leans down and spits in your mouth. You moan as the warm liquid slides down your tongue and into your throat and you swallow it. Joel hums approvingly and bends down to kiss you. It’s more gentle than the first time. Joel’s lips muffle your whimper when Tommy takes your breast in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You cry out when he nips at the bud and part from Joel.

“Don’t be jealous, daddy,” you whine looking at your stepdad whose fingers are digging into your hips.

Joel sits on the bed next to Tommy, also naked and your eyes dart between the brothers.

They’re both gorgeous - wide shoulders, broad chests, golden skin. Tommy is thinner than Joel and his cock is not as big but their members are longer than anything you’ve taken so far. A little part of you is worried but you’ve wanted it for so long and you’re fully ready to be ruined by them.

“Daddy, uncle, please fuck me,” you plead pouting your lips.

“Her pussy is mine,” Tommy says as his fiery eyes land on Joel and then you.

“I can fuck her ass, no problem. For me. But it can be a big one for her,” he smirks and slaps your ass cheek. “Is your ass ready for uncle Joel’s visit?”

You can’t wait to be fucked so you silently get off Tommy’s lap, kneel on the bed between the men and lay down between them, sticking your ass up in the air.

“I’m not sure. Can you check?” You purr wiggling your butt and you hear Joel groan while Tommy curses.

You rest your cheek on your hand bringing the other to your ass and pull on the flesh showing off your holes to the men.

“Good little whore,” Joel praises you rubbing your ass cheek, “Do you think she’s ever taken it up her ass?”

“For her own good I hope she has, or you’ll rip her apart,” Tommy replies and the brothers laugh as your core tightens from hearing them talk about you as if you’re not in the room.

“Aw, angel, look at your pussy winking at us. Fear turns you on, huh? Good to know…dirty slut.”

You feel him spit on your tight hole and then he pushes the tip of his finger into you. You clench around it with a mewl and he slaps your ass not too hard but enough to leave a mark, “Relax, baby, need to get this ass ready.”

He tries again and inserts his digit up to the top knuckle.

While Joel is opening your asshole up like a Christmas present, Tommy climbs up the bed and rests his back against the headboard. He positions you so you’re between his legs. His cock is in his hand right in front of your face and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself on your elbows and lick a wet stripe along the underside of his length. His soft salty skin makes you salivate and you take his tip in your drooling mouth sucking on it and licking the slit. You moan swallowing his precum while Joel pushes his finger to the last knuckle and begins stretching you for his cock.

“Love the taste, sweetheart?” Tommy mumbles, closing his eyes for a second and bucking his hips up to get deeper into your hot mouth.

You start bobbing your head up and down while your hand is jerking your stepdad’s shaft as your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. Tommy's cock in your mouth feels like it belongs there and you give all of yourself blowing him until he holds your head between his hands stopping you.

“Hey, hey, babygirl, you’ll make me come like that… wanna fill up your pussy.”

You take his cock out of your mouth begrudgingly and rest your head on his inner thigh still gripping his cock.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, daddy, I’ll lick your balls and make you come all over your stomach,” you purr with a naughty smile but cold eyes, getting impatient. Tommy looks up at the ceiling, mumbling curses under his breath.

“Is she ready?” He asks Joel with a shaky voice and you hear his older brother hum as his finger leaves your asshole. You feel looser and miss Joel stuffing your tight ring.

“Get on the side, you two. I ain’t kneeling,” he roars.

Tommy manhandles you on his lap and scoots up to the edge of the bed holding you close. Joel stands behind your back.

“Maybe we can get you a cuck chair, old man?” You giggle getting comfortable straddling Tommy when suddenly Joel grabs your throat and pulls you up on your knees, your back pressed tightly to his chest.

His lips brush the shell of your ear as he hisses leaning down, “I’m about to fuck your ass, stupid slut, getting on my nerves ain’t the best idea.”

“Joel,” Tommy's voice is worried, “she’s kidding.”

To reassure your stepdad you moan and snake your hand around Joel’s neck grabbing his hair and pulling him closer.

“Don’t worry, daddy, uncle Joel and I are just playing.”

Joel growls and pushes you on Tommy’s chest.

“Plug her sloppy hole, brother, then I’ll wreck her ass. Got lube?”

Tommy nods his head at the nightstand.

You hear Joel shuffle stuff around in the drawer and then he jiggles a lube bottle in front of your face.

“Half empty, angel, your mom’s either as dry as her turkey or she loves it up her butt,” he chuckles.

“I fucking hate you,” you grunt through gritted teeth as jealousy burns your insides.

Tommy kisses the corner of your mouth trying to calm you down and then grabs your hip with one hand to guide you while the other holds his weeping cock at your wet hole.

You immediately pierce yourself on his member in one swift move moaning together with him. You feel full to the brim as your folds part for his girth and your walls snugly envelope his hardness.

“Holy fuck, babygirl, you’re tight”, he breathes out.

“My pussy is just for you, Tommy,” you whisper in his ear, tilting your hips and pushing your ass out hoping Joel will get the hint.

The older brother accepts your invitation right away and drops a generous amount of lube on the spot just above your asshole. You flinch feeling the cold liquid slide down to your tight ring and then your pussy stretched around Tommy��s cock.

Joel’s hand grips your shoulder for leverage while his fat lubed up tip presses to your asshole. The nerves churn in your stomach and your nails dig into your stepdad’s shoulders as you breathe deeply trying to calm down and relax your muscles.

Joel pushes the head into you making you half gasp-half moan as he stretches you. It aches just a bit as you’ve been wearing a butt plug in preparation for the night but you furrow your brows and open your mouth acting like an anal virgin for your unaware stepdad. ‘You’re his innocent stepdaughter’ after all.

“Daddy, he’s so big,” you whine, biting your lip and looking into his eyes.

“‘s right, angel,” Joel smirks behind you.

“Wanna stop?” Tommy asks, his voice concerned but you shake your head. No way you want to stop this!

“No, just hold me, please,” you plead and Tommy hugs you tightly, his arms over yours as you nuzzle the crease of his neck.

In this position, resting on your stepdad’s chest, your ass is sticking out perfectly for Joel who pushes his slicked hardness into you slowly while Tommy is rubbing your back whispering ‘good girl’s into your hair.

You mewl when Joel bottoms out with a growl hitting your pussy with his heavy balls.

Being completely full with the brothers’ cocks you whimper loudly when you sit up a little and feel them move inside you.

“Oh fuck, you’re both so big.”

“Move babygirl, you’ll get used to it.”

You hear Tommy’s words and grind your hips back and forth and all three of you moan in unison.

“Fuck, angel. Unclench your ass, you gonna make me cum too soon.” Joel groans and you take a deep breath trying to subside your excitement.

“Please move,” you mewl breathing deeply and they start slowly fucking you.

You’d never tell him but you’re grateful to Joel for going at it at a slow pace as your plug had nothing on the man’s girth and you feel the dull pain of the stretch as he’s pushing his cock in and out.

Tommy notices your pained expression and cups your cheek before giving you a passionate kiss. His cock twitches inside you as he’s thrusting up into your pussy with deep and slow strokes.

“You’re doing so good for us, babygirl,” he whispers as your lips brush. His hand kneads your breast, thumb and forefinger twitch your nipple as the other slithers down to your mound. He finds your hardened clit and starts rubbing it with two fingers.

Joel is panting and huffing behind you fucking your tight ass. He takes a hold of your throat and squeezes getting your attention.

“Imma fuck you hard now, slut. Ready or not.”

Tommy starts objecting but you want nothing more right now than to be ruined by their cocks.

“Yes, uncle Joel…Fuck me... Daddy please… my holes are yours.”

Joel immediately increases the pace at which his hips slap against your ass pushing his member into your asshole.

Tommy whines at your words and braces his hand on the bed before he starts power fucking your dripping cunt.

Your brain completely shuts down as your holes are being wrecked by your step uncle and stepdad. Your nails scratch Tommy’s shoulders as your core tightens, pussy and asshole clench around their fat cocks and your eyes roll back as your orgasm approaches fast.

“I told you this slut wanted it, huh?! Her holes were made for our dicks, brother. Look at her cock dumb face!” You hear Joel’s triumphant speech and see him slap Tommy’s shoulder. “Proud of you brother. You took what you wanted!”

Your stepdad smiles and looks at you with dark eyes. Joel leans over your shoulder, grabs your chin and turns your head to face him.

“You’re our fuck toy now, got it, angel? We gonna fill you up so good your belly will bloat. And we’ll do it again cos it’s all you’re good for… being fucked and suck our dicks and balls,” he growls as they’re pushing their cocks in and out. “Say it, “I’m your fuck toy, uncle” he commands shaking your head.

“I’m your fuck toy, uncle,” you repeat obediently as your eyes well up with tears. You’re moved by the immense pleasure coursing through your veins and your climax hits as you cry and moan squeezing their cocks. Tommy grabs a hold of your shaking body as you squirt and drown his member. Squelching sounds fill the room and the extra wetness sends Tommy over the edge as he shoots his cum deep into your womb.

Joel is still holding your jaw, then he curses and crashes his mouth on yours. His kiss is brutal, dominant and overwhelming, plush lips abusing yours, tongue licking into your mouth.

It takes a few strokes before he begins filling your ass with his warm seed. He parts from you moaning and your heart sings hearing them both omitting the sounds of pleasure because of you.

When they stop moving inside your body, you fall on Tommy’s chest and he holds you through the aftershocks, still buried deep inside your pussy.

Joel pulls his cock out and slaps your ass before plopping across the bed next to Tommy and you.

Tommy kisses your cheek panting and falls on his back next to Joel.

They’re looking up at you, eyes roaming your body, glistening with sweat, and smiling, Tommy with affection and Joel with his usual wolfish grin.

You must look spent and fucked out and your stepdad tells you to lay down. You get on the bed placing your head on the pillow and Tommy goes to the bathroom for a wet towel.

Joel turns on his side bracing his head on his hand, semi hard cock resting on his thigh, and watches you for a few moments before speaking,

“Show me.”

“What?”

“How good we filled your holes”.

You smirk at him and bend your legs pressing the knees to your chest. Joel scoots up closer to you and glides his middle finger against your asshole and up to your entrance and then clit making you flinch at the overstimulation.

“Squeeze it out,” he commands, opening your thighs wider.

Tommy comes back just in time to see your pussy contract and push out his cum and his cock twitches. It slides down to your asshole as Joel’s spend trickles out as well. Joel mixes the liquids with his thumb and then sits up to feed them to you. Tommy gets on the bed and watches you lick Joel’s finger clean off their warm cum.

When you’re done Tommy gently cleans you up with the wet towel while Joel gets up to light a cigarette and then lies down next to you smoking.

Tommy throws the towel away and joins you two. He turns your head and you make out for some time while Joel’s filling the room with smoke. You know Jess is going to be livid and smile internally.

Tommy parts from you and looks into your eyes, “delete the recording, babygirl, you don’t need it. This pussy is mine now”, he whispers against your lips as his hand cups your heated center. “We’ll make it work.”

You swallow loudly and look at Joel who’s watching you two like a hawk. His eyes are cold and intent. He shifts his jaw, then takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke in your face.

You turn away feeling your eyes sting and look up at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you going to do now?

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

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tightjeansjavi · 2 months

Text

The Rite of Movement | part four

“so move me, baby”

A/N: so like the little slut that I am…I was kicking my feet and giggling at my desk yesterday while writing this 🤭 I surprise myself with just how filthy I can get, woo doggy! Please read the warnings and if this isn’t your cup of tea, just scroll on by baby love! No harm 💗 thank you to my bug @strang3lov3 for the moodboard!! I love u so much & a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl for betaing 🥺

~word count: 6.4k~

Summary: you meet Tommy Miller for the first time, and he takes you for a spin ;)

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!tommy x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, mentions of alcohol and smoking, consent, unprotected piv, fingering, pussy play, f!masturbation, semi-public sex, reader and Tommy fuck and Joel’s into it, amateur porn video in the back of Tommy’s truck, language, filthy talk, praise kink, daddy kink, over stimulation/fucked out, light degradation (by Tommy but in a sexy non-offensive way), dumbification kink (endearing), readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical descriptions, reader, Joel, and Tommy, are sexually liberated individuals, NSFW, +18 minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

playlist🎧 series masterlist

“Joel…” you trailed off, picking at a loose thread on your denim skirt absentmindedly. “What if your brother doesn’t like me?” You questioned in an unsure tone.

He turned to face you, leaning over the dashboard while he rested his elbow along the steering wheel, “baby love, you ain’t got nothin’ to be worried about with my brother, okay? Think y’all are gonna get on like a house fire.” He winked in an attempt to soothe your budding nerves. “What about meetin’ him is gettin’ ya all worked up? Talk to me, darlin.’”

He gently grasped your bare knee in his big, warm, palm.

“This is going to sound so fucking stupid, Joel. But what if he finds me annoying—repulsive? I always get nervous when I’m meeting new people. I’m surprised I didn’t completely shit a brick when I first met you for instance.” You stifled a nervous laugh as you looked over at him.

He gave you that warm reassuring smile of his, dimples peeking through as he gently squeezed your knee. “Y’all are gonna get on just fine, ‘Kay? And listen, between you and me, Tommy and I—we uh—we discussed the possibility of the three of us filmin’ somethin’ together at some point. Now, there ain’t no rush for any of that, okay? Last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or pressured to get along with him.”

Your pupils dialated, thighs clenching inwards at the prospect of fucking…Tommy? Holy fuck—was this real life?

“You, and Tommy—fucking me?” You spluttered out, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. There was no denying that Tommy Miller was a real hunk, with the personality of a horny golden retriever. He was the complete opposite of Joel, but that intrigued you nonetheless.

“Only if you’d be interested in that, baby love. You don’t gotta decide right now, okay? Tonight’s all about you. If you’re feelin’ my brother, I want you to act on it only if you’re comfortable. He’s a real looker, but I’ve made sure that he’s a good Texas gentleman.” Joel reassured you as he was silently trying to gauge how you were feeling thus far based off your body language.

“And you’d be okay with him and I…?” You trailed off, meeting his gaze as you reached for his hand on your knee, interlocking your fingers through his.

“Of course I would be. I’m not gonna get weirdly jealous or possessive if you want to fuck my brother, baby love. That’s why I wanted to have this conversation with you ahead of tonight, because Tommy? He’s interested, but I told him to let you feel it out, and to not spring it on ya right away.”

He watched the subtle clench of your inner thighs, your pupils blown wide and your lips parting. He knew you were turned on by the prospect of fucking his brother, and your arousal inherently turned him on as well.

He dropped his forearm from its resting spot along the steering wheel and brought his hand to your other knee where he proceeded to coax your thighs open just a tad. You didn’t need much coaxing at all as your thighs naturally parted open, thoughts running wild.

“Look at me, baby love.” He rasped, rubbing soothing circles into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Is the thought of fucking my brother turnin’ you on, darlin?’ Ya drippin’ all pretty for him already?”

“Fuck.” You breathed out, eyes rolling back into your skull. Joel had barely even touched you yet, and you were leaking like a damn faucet through the gusset of your thin panties. You could feel a droplet of your arousal drip down and create a wet patch through the fabric. Your eyes met his, lower lip harshly taken between your teeth, pupils darkened like an oncoming storm, blown wide like a doe’s.

“I never thought the possibility of fucking your brother would arise, Joel. It’s like—a fantasy coming true.” You breathed out, head lolling to the side, “I think he has such a nice fucking cock.”

Joel preened, leaning the upper half of his body further over the center console as his fingers trailed closer to your covered core. He could feel you pulsing already, the anticipation of being touched igniting a fire in your veins the closer his fingers drew nearer.

“A fantasy come true, huh? You think about my brother a lot, baby love? S’okay if you do. Got yourself all worked up now…almost creating a mess on the seat with how fuckin’ wet your pussy is gettin’, baby.”

You whined out his name, letting yourself fully succumb to your depraved thoughts of fucking Tommy. Your brain felt fried, imploded to complete mush, and yet your Joel didn’t show a lick of judgment towards your arousal. In fact, he encouraged it and therefore you had no reason to feel shameful.

“Why don’t you get me all ready for him, Joel. C’mon baby, please. Play with me a little. Play with my pussy while I think about fucking your brother’s cock, Joel.” You shamelessly shifted your hips towards his hand, chasing his touch with unabashed desire.

He checked the time on his watch, a coy smirk playing on his sinful lips as he looked over at you, “Think we can afford to be fashionably late, baby love.”

Joel and Tommy’s local watering hole was exactly how you expected it to be: not the classiest, and certainly not your first pick, but if Joel were any other man, you would have hightailed out of there. But this was your Joel, and his warm palm guiding you to a booth that was tucked away in the corner. You were grateful for the outfit that you chose to wear for the evening could grant easy access. And with the residue of your release still coated between your thighs, you felt the trepidation and anticipation of what was to happen when Tommy would inevitably show up.

The thought had you buzzing all over again as you found yourself tucked into the wall seat of the booth, Joel’s hand finding purchase around your bare thigh as he leaned in, the tip of his aquiline nose brushing against your pulse point.

“Want anythin’ to drink, baby love? Or just water for now?” He rasped low and deep, sending goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Tequila, on the rocks.” You purred out your request, gripping on the edge of the booths worn leather for dear life.

“‘Kay, baby love. One tequila on the rocks comin’ right up.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your face, leaving a whiff of his cologne and musk on your skin.

You watched as he slipped out of the booth and made his way over to the bartop, sleeves rolled up revealing broad, tan, forearms. His fingers that had only just been plunged deep into your pulsing cunt twenty minutes ago, were now casually flipping through a stack of twenties.

“S’cuse me, ma’am. This seat ain’t taken, is it?”

You peered up from your phone at the sound of the stranger's all-too familiar voice. A deep Texas drawl straight out of a western film, paired with two dark espresso colored eyes, a broad nose, and a head of dark, luscious curls that fell in ringlets.

Tommy fucking Miller, and that shit eating smirk of his that sent your thighs clenching together in tandem.

Holy—I need a glass of water.

“Oh, no. It’s not taken. Please, sit down.” You gestured to the empty seat across the booth with a nervous smile.

Tommy slipped into the booth with ease and reached behind his ear and pulled out a single cigarette, twirling it between his fingers before he placed it between his lips. He reached across the booth's table, hand outstretched in your direction. “Y’must be my big brother’s baby love. M’Tommy, the hotter Miller brother. It’s a pleasure to finally meet ya.”

You blinked, registering in your brain that Tommy Miller was in fact sitting across from you and looking like a goddamn snack nonetheless.

You reached for his hand, shaking it firmly, “charmed.” You grinned.

“Damn. And she’s polite too? My brother got the whole package with ya huh, sweetheart?” He chuckled smoothly, shaking your hand a moment longer before he retracted his. “Y’don’t mind if I smoke do ya?”

“Oh, no. Of course! I don’t mind.”

He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, lighting the cigarette with ease before he leaned back against the worn leather cushion, stretching his arm to rest along the backside of the booth, long fingers stretched out—flexing.

“Where’s the son of a bitch anyway?” Tommy asked casually, the lit end of the cigarette dipping downwards between his lips.

“He’s right here.” Joel had returned with your tequila on the rocks, and two glasses of neat whiskey. He slid one over to his brother with a small nod. “And you can’t smoke in here, Tommy.” Joel reminded him as he slid into the seat next to you.

“Says who? Doreen don’t give a damn.” Tommy quipped back as he reached for his glass, tipping it in yours and Joel’s direction.

“That’s cause Doreen’s got the fattest fuckin’ crush on you and that big head of yours.” Joel scoffed against the rim of his glass taking a sip before he turned his attention towards you. “Gotcha a water as well, baby love.”

“Who the hell you callin’ a big head, huh?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully and grasped the cigarette between his two fingers, replacing it with the rim of his glass as he took a sip. “How’s y’all’s evenin’ goin’ so far? Gettin’ into any trouble?”

“Believe I called you a big head, Tommy.” Joel chuckled, letting his free arm gently drape across your shoulders, squeezing them gently as you took a sip of your tequila on the rocks, letting the liquor burn down your throat and warm your stomach. “S’goin’ pretty good. First time baby loves been here, ain’t that right?”

You didn’t register that Joel was talking to you, his voice sounding fuzzy in your ears as you took a bigger sip of your drink. “What?” You questioned softly, being brought back down to earth when you felt his warm palm gently squeeze your shoulder. The heat rose to your cheeks fast and you cleared your throat, turning your face to the side to hide how flustered you were.

“Whatcha ya gettin’ all shy on us for, sweetheart? You don’t gotta do that with us. I swear, I don’t bite, unless ya want me to.” Tommy said with a coy wink.

“She’s just a lil’ bashful is all, cause on the way here she was—”

You cut Joel off, squeezing his bicep firmly in your palm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick, okay?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, and before he could even get up from the booth, you were slipping past him when you saw an opening.

Joel and Tommy both watched as you quickly walked to the nearest bathroom before they looked back at one another. Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette when Joel spoke again,

“She’s got the hots for you, little brother. She made a goddamn mess all over my fingers on the way here cus’ she was thinkin’ about your cock.” Joel said in a hushed, low tone.

Tommy’s brows raised as he leaned over the table, resting his cigarette off to the side. “Fuck. Y’serious? Goddamn. She make a mess all over the seat too? Bet she fuckin’ did.”

“Mhmmm.” Joel hummed, leaning back against the seat. “She told me that you have a nice fuckin’ cock.” He chuckled, shaking his head to the side before he leaned forward, “Now, when she gets back here after composing herself, I want you to flirt with her a bit. Let her come to you, okay? Y’gotta play nice with her, Tommy. She’s a sweet thing, and I know y’all are gonna get along jus’ fine.”

“Good god.” Tommy said lowly, holding back a groan. “You hit the fuckin’ jackpot with that one, Joel. I’ll play nice with her, scouts honor. Y’know I’ll take extra good care of her.”

“I know you will. She jus’ couldn’t believe it when I said that you and I discussed the possibility of filmin’ a video with her. Absolutely blew her fuckin’ mind with that one. But god, she looked so pretty all flustered and turned on thinkin’ about the two of us fuckin’ her.” Joel reached for his glass, swirling the amber liquid around and took another slow sip.

“Fuck, I bet she did look goddamn gorgeous like that. You got yourself a real filthy and nice girl, Joel. A man’s fuckin’ dream, you lucky son of a bitch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen your grumpy ass smile that much in my whole life. It’s refreshin’ seein’ you grinnin’ like a sinner in church.” Tommy chuckled warmly.

Joel preened as he thought about you. “She’s really amazing, Tommy. She’s been so supportive and brave, and we’re having so much fun with it. It’s been so long since work has felt fun, you know? Who’d’ve thought fucking would get old.” He chuckled with a small grin playing on his lips and a flush rising on his cheeks. “Never really met anyone quite like her, honestly.”

“Goddamn. Who’s in here choppin’ up the fuckin’ onions, huh? Fuck. You’re in love with her, ain’t ya? That’s amazing. I’m seriously so fuckin’ happy for you, Joel.”

“Fuck.” Joel said suddenly, feeling his heart lurch in his chest. “Shit. Yeah—I think, I think I am in love with her. It’s not too soon, is it? I mean—we jus’ we get eachother. I’ve never felt more comfortable with another person before. She gets me, Tommy. The real me. She sees my heart before she sees my job, and no other woman in my life has ever seen me in that light.” He sniffles, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes at his emotional confession.

“Yeah, you got the love bug bad, brother. Really, really, bad. But y’know what? I know you ain’t bluffin’ about this one either. You’re speakin’ from your goddamn heart. I hear it in your voice, and that’s a beautiful fuckin’ thing, Joel. Cus’ if anyone deserves love in this world, it’s you. So you keep holdin’ onto that, ‘Kay?” Tommy said earnestly and reached across the table to gently squeeze Joel’s shoulder

“Shuddup, Tommy. Or you’re really gonna make me cry.” Joel chuckled through his tears, quickly wiping at his eyes. “I’m gonna keep holdin’ onto her for as long as she’ll have me. I’m hopin’ she’s endgame for me.”

“I reckon she will be.”

After you splashed a bit of water on your face and gave yourself a detailed pep talk in the women’s bathroom, you finally mustered up the courage to face Joel and Tommy again. Joel had reassured you in the car that nothing had to happen right away. He always wanted you to be comfortable and this was something that you were still getting used to. The idea of someone caring about you that much? It used to be unfathomable .

You never realized just how good it could get until you met Joel Miller. You were hoping that he would be your endgame too.

After taking one last glance into the mirror you left the bathroom with a new confident stride as you approached the booth. Joel greeted you with a warm and reassuring smile, and when he went to get up, you gently placed your hand against his chest, easing him back down onto the leather seat before you slid in beside him.

Tommy gently nudged your ankle with the toe of his boot, testing the waters with you and heeding Joel’s words to let you come to him.

“Y’feelin’ alright, sweetheart? Can we getcha anythin?” Tommy asked softly, brown eyes looking warm and inviting across the way.

“I’m okay.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It was just—getting really hot in here.” You said with a light laugh to ease the tension.

“Tends to happen when you’re feelin’ flustered.” Tommy added as he leaned in over the table. “Y’know, sweetheart,” he started, “S’okay if I call ya that?”

You nodded, reaching for your glass and took a quick sip.

“I watched one of your films the other day, and I gotta tell ya, you have some real talent. Not jus’ sayin’ that either. I mean it. You’re gorgeous, and I jus’ wanna let you know that there’s no pressure or anythin’ alright? We don’t even gotta do anythin’ tonight if you ain’t feelin’ up for it.”

Joel leaned in close to you then, warm whiskey coated breath kissing your skin as his arm gently wrapped around you, giving you a squeeze.

“Wouldn’t believe how good that pussy is, brother. Like nothin’ else you’ve ever had. Never wanna have another, truly.” He preened, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Your thighs clamped together immediately and you could feel the corners of Joel’s lips upturn into a small grin.

“Don’t doubt that for a second, Joel.” Tommy nodded and ashed his cigarette along the rim of his empty glass. “Sweetheart, you’re such a natural, babygirl. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’re gonna become a star.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks from both Joel and Tommy’s words and if you were already on your way to hell, well—you just bought yourself a first class ticket!

“You really think I’m gonna be a star, Tommy?” You leaned forward against the table to match his energy, feeling yourself gravitating in his direction.

“Absolutely.” He nodded. “Now, Joel here wants me to take care of ya for a little. Y’okay with that, sweetheart? He’s gonna sit here nice n’comfy if you wanna—”

You were already up from the booth, reaching for Tommy’s hand in a haste and pulling him down the aisle and towards the door of the bar.

Tommy stumbled after you, his palm warm in your grasp as he followed you to the door. But being the gentleman that he was, he held the door open for you, letting you walk past first before he followed suit. “Where do you wanna go, babygirl?” He rasped against your ear, broad arm swooping around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“Your truck.” you said confidently, slipping your hand into the back pocket of his dark washed jeans.

“Fuck. You wanna make a mess all over my seats too, babygirl?” He reached for his keys, twirling them around his fingers.

Goddammit, Joel. You thought.

“Did he tell you that?” You squeaked out, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“He sure as fuck did, sweetheart. He also told me that you think I have a nice fuckin’ cock.” he chuckled, guiding you towards the direction of his parked pickup truck.

“Well, you do have a nice fucking cock, Tommy. And while your brother was playing with me earlier, all I could think about was you and your cock fucking me.” You lowered your voice when an unsuspecting couple walked past the two of you.

“Mmm. I knew that you were a little freak under all those nerves, babygirl. Gonna take real good care of you, okay?” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, letting his hand curve around your hip. He was thankfully parked in a secluded spot in the lot where people would really have to pay attention to even see the debauchery that would soon be taking place.

He unlocked the back door for you, but before you could climb in, he gently pressed you back against it. “Before I fuck your brains out, I jus’ wanted to let you know that even though you’re consentin’ now, you can change your mind, okay? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone with blue balls, babygirl. I want you to enjoy yourself and if you end up not wantin’ to continue, jus’ let me know, ‘Kay?” His words were genuine like Joel’s, and as much as you appreciated them, you were going to lose your mind any second now.

“Tommy, respectfully, thank you. Disrespectfully, I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to last without your cock stuffed inside of me.” You breathed out, letting your hand drop from the side of his truck and palm him through the tight confines of his jeans. “Please, fuck me.”

That’s all it took for Tommy to surge forward, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth, very different from Joel’s style but you fucking loved it already and wasted no time to wind your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his thick curls, giving them a good firm tug as he reached around you to pull the door latch open.

He bit down teasingly on your lower lip, tugging it out before chasing the kiss once more. “Get that sweet ass of yours in the backseat, babygirl” he mumbled against your lips and quickly pulled the door open.

Your lips detached from his for a moment only for you to climb into the backseat, falling onto your back as you blindly reached for the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head.

Tommy was between your legs in seconds after the door slammed shut behind him. His hands grasped at your thighs, spreading them open and positioning your calves to rest over his shoulders. He had a direct view of your covered cunt, a fresh new wet patch blooming through the fabric that sent him grinning like a devil.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. You that wet already? Those little panties of yours are practically ruined, babygirl.” He tsked under his breath as he situated himself as best as he could on his elbows. “Can you show her to me, baby? Show me that pretty pussy.” He nipped at your exposed inner thigh, dragging the stubble along his jaw against your skin while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I almost thought about touching myself in the bathroom when I was in there.” You let out a soft sigh as you dragged your hand down over your bare stomach and underneath the hem of your skirt. You looped your thumb around the outside of your panties, pulling them to the side revealing your puffy, soaked cunt to Tommy’s lustful gaze.

“You shoulda, babygirl. Little slut like you probably needs it all the time, huh? Fingers, a cock stuffed in you, a mouth on that pussy?” He chuckled with a grin. “Spread her open for me, sweetheart. Wanna see all of her before I fuckin’ ruin you.”

You let out a soft whimper from his words just as a droplet of arousal dripped down from your opening and slid down between your cheeks. You used your middle and forefinger to delicately spread yourself open, playing with your arousal that began to coat your fingers, and you couldn’t help but slip one finger in before slowly pulling it back out.

“Is she wet enough for you, Tommy? Maybe you need to give her a taste. See how wet she is for yourself.” You encouraged him with a subtle grin.

“Mmm. Try daddy, babygirl. Think you can call me that? You’ve got such a pretty pussy. My god. She’s already making a goddamn mess all over the seat. Go on and play with yourself for me, sweetheart. I wanna watch.”

“Oh, fuck. How did I already know that you were into the daddy kink?” You giggled softly while your fingers began to play with yourself in a teasing motion. You lightly played with your clit, letting out a soft moan as you dragged your fingers lower, teasing your entrance before slipping two fingers in. “Oh, fuck, daddy.” You moaned, watching him with hooded eyes as he began to palm himself through his jeans.

“That’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good little slut playin’ with her pussy for daddy. Gettin’ her all nice and ready for daddy’s cock.” He preened and reached for his belt buckle, undoing it so he would have a bit of relief. “You okay if daddy takes a video of this? That way you can watch it later and remember just how good I took care of you, babygirl.”

You nodded enthusiastically as you began to shallowly pump your fingers, curling them inwards before slipping them back out. “Of course you can take a video, daddy. It’ll be your souvenir.” You shot him a playful wink.

“Fuck. You’re really a naughty little slut, babygirl. Touching yourself in daddy’s truck. Gonna have to get it detailed after I’m done with you.” He snickered and reached for his phone and pulled it out of his pocket. He typed in his password quickly before opening the camera app. “Smile for the camera, babygirl.” He angled his phone towards your face and you responded with a cheesy grin, fingers working over your clit to keep yourself stimulated.

“Daddy’s here with his newest slut and her pretty pussy that’s going to be stuffed to the fuckin’ brim with daddy’s cock soon.” He brought his phone down between your thighs getting a good view of your fingers playing with yourself. “Drippin’ all over daddy’s fuckin’ seats like the naughty little slut that she is.”

“So fuckin’ wet for you, daddy.” You moaned, holding steady eye contact between Tommy’s phone and his face. “Show me your cock, please. I want to see it.”

“Ask and you shall receive, babygirl.” He shot you a wink and popped open the button of his jeans followed by his zipper. He pushed his jeans down over his hips along with his boxers. Your eyes went wide for a moment when his cock sprang free and slapped up against his taut stomach.

Tommy’s cock may have not been as thick as Joel’s, but it was longer, and curved at just the right angle.

“Get on all fours for me, baby girl.” He requested while he wrapped his fist around his cock, giving it a few languid strokes from base to tip. You couldn’t help but watch as he spit over the bulbous head, rubbing in his saliva for extra lubricant as you worked your skirt and panties off, tossing them into the front seat before you flipped over onto your stomach, situating yourself on your hands and knees.

“Well, if that ain’t a sight made in fuckin’ heaven.” He whistled and grabbed a handful of your left ass-cheek, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers before he gave it a good smack, watching it recoil back as you lurched forward, looking over your shoulder at him. Your pupils were blown wide, lower lip harshly taken between your teeth as you rocked your hips back towards him.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You arched your back, wiggling your ass in a tantalizing motion just as he brought his hand down over your right cheek in a swift motion eliciting a surprised yelp to slip past your lips.

“You want daddy’s cock that bad, huh? Such a desperate little slut wantin’ to be stuffed full of daddy’s cock.” He slapped your left cheek then before he let his hand drift upwards against your spine, and to your shoulder blades. He gently pressed you further against the seat so that your back was arched even more.

"gonna stretch you out, gonna be ruined for anyone else." He growled against the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna be daddy’s favorite fuckin’ slut when he’s finished with you, babygirl.”

And then you felt the head of his cock press against the seam of your dripping cunt, teasing your folds and bumping against your neglected clit. “Look at you already creamin’ all over daddy’s cock. Barely even inside of you yet, sweetheart.”

You lurched forward when you felt him begin to press you open inch by inch till he was bottomed out with his hips pressed firmly against your ass. Your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape as he set an immediate punching rhythm that knocked the air from your lungs.

“Oh—oh fuck!” You moaned, listening to the lewd sounds of skin on skin slapping together. The squelch of your pussy and his heavy, guttural grunts as he pounded his hips into your ass over and over again.

“God, you're such a slut, babygirl. Daddy’s perfect little slut. You give it this good to all the boys, huh? God, your pussy is huggin’ me so goddamn tight.” He groaned out, almost forgetting that he had his phone in his hand still as his forehead came to rest upon your upper back. He slowed his thrusts down momentarily so you could catch your breath and he could check in on you.

“You good, babygirl?”

“Mhmm. Never better.”

He ground his hips against your ass, rolling them forward so you could feel all of him inside of you. Just when you had a moment to catch your breath, he picked the pace up once more and tossed his phone to the side so he could wrap both arms around you, yanking you back against his chest.

"such a whore, babygirl. Workin’ your way through our whole family, aren't you?" He whispered against the shell of your ear, biting down on it with his teeth as he fucked up into you at a new angle.

One hand groped one of your breasts while the other rested along the base of your neck. He was careful to not apply any pressure and get too caught up in the moment. He could feel your pussy fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice with each pull and drag of his cock. Your eyes were shut in bliss, unabashed moans slipping past your lips as the coil in your belly was pulled tight.

The windows in Tommy’s truck had significantly begun to fog up from the steam that your activities were producing. And despite the discreet location that Tommy was parked in, you couldn’t help the rush you felt when you thought of the possibility of someone—or even Joel catching you and Tommy in this position.

Would he join right in? Fuck—

“Daddy—don’t stop, please!” You cried out, feeling that coil being pulled even tighter as your thighs began to tremble, and tears flooded your eyes: tears of overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it, babygirl. Such a good fuckin’ cockslut for daddy. Good fuckin’ girl. You gonna come all over daddy’s cock? C’mon! Wanna see you fuckin’ coat me, sweetheart. Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” He snapped his hips forwards then, feeling his own release begin to catch up to him, but you always came first. Tommy would never let you, or any of his girls, not come before him.

He dropped one of his hands from your breasts to thum at your already sensitive clit to push you right on over the edge as you cried out his name, pulsing around his cock and seeing stars dancing behind your closed eyelids.

“There you go, babygirl. There you fuckin’ go.” His tone was much softer now as he slowly slipped out of you, his cock gleaming in your release. He gently flipped you over onto your back, cradling your face delicately in his big hands.

You had a cockdumb look on your face. Completely blissed out and in a whole other world. Your thighs fell open, as your own release drooled down the the seam of your fucked out hole and onto the interior leather seats. In this relaxed position, your pussy let out a squelching sound of air being released, causing you and Tommy to both laugh.

“Fucked her pretty good, didn’t I?” He chuckled to himself and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “You okay if I take a little look at her, babygirl? I wanna see the mess you made.”

“Mhmmm.” You hummed, lashes fluttering shut as you stretched your arms behind your head in a languid, relaxed movement.

Tommy reached for his discarded phone bringing it back down right over your still pulsing cunt as his fingers gently spread you open, sliding through the milky residue of your release.

“Fuck. So pretty, babygirl. You have such a pretty pussy.” He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to your clit, getting just a little taste before he pulled himself back up. “Definitely gonna have to get my truck detailed after this, sweetheart.” He ended the video, falling back against the seat beside you to catch his own breath.

You let out another soft, cock dumb giggle, peeking one eye open to look over at him. “You really think my pussy is that pretty, Tommy?” You dropped one of your hands to lazily rest along your stomach before dipping it between your thighs, missing that stimulated post-orgasm feeling already.

“Baby, she’s so fucking pretty. Like seriously I could happily watch you play with her for hours and easily get off to it.” He tilted his head to the side to look over at you, grin playing on his lips. “How are you feelin’?”

“Mmm. Joel loves to watch me play with myself too. Guess it’s just a Miller brother thing, huh?” You winked with a giggle. “I feel fucking amazing, Tommy.” Cock dumb and satisfied, you thought.

He preened at your response, resting his arms along the backseats as he let out a relaxed sigh. “Good, baby. I’m real happy to hear that. Means that I did my job right. And what can I say? Joel and I are big pussy lovers.” He chuckled and reached for his phone, texting Joel that they would be back shortly, and attached the video as well.

“Yeah, you guys sure are.”

After about twenty minutes, Tommy had to physically help you to sit up and redress. Your entire body felt like jello and you were still positively fucked out. He helped you out of the backseat, keeping his arm wrapped around you for support as he guided you back inside to the booth.

“Easy now, babygirl. Back into my brother’s lap you go. You just cuddle up with him now, ‘kay? Pussy took a real poundin’, let her rest.” Tommy cooed softly against your ear as Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you bury your face into his neck and lazily wrap your arms around him.

“Mhmmm.” You mumbled against his neck, face scrunching up as you breathed in his natural aroma while he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your back underneath your shirt.

"Did such a good job, baby love. Tommy showed me how sweet you were to him, let him feel how soft and warm you are, hmm? My good girl. Here, baby, I got you water. Need you to take a sip, you worked hard out there." Joel murmured softly to you.

“It was so much fun. Tommy was so good to me, baby. He thinks I have such a pretty pussy.” You softly giggled and blindly reached for the glass of water, pulling your face out from where it was pressed against his neck to guzzle the liquid down before cuddling right back up against him.

“I’m happy to hear that, baby love. I knew y’all were gonna hit it off. M’so proud of my girl. And yes, baby. You do have a pretty pussy. Rest now, ‘kay?”

You were out like a light then all curled up in his lap like a koala without a care in the world.

“Whatcha do to her, huh? Got my baby all cock drunk, Tommy.” Joel asked softly, reaching for his fresh glass of whiskey and took a small sip, careful to not disturb you.

Tommy was back across the booth, a new cigarette between his lips and his arms crossed behind his head in a relaxed position.

“Took ‘er for a real good spin.” He grinned, tapping his fingers along the worn, frayed leather. “Gonna have to get the truck fuckin’ detailed though.”

“That so? She make it all messy?” Joel asked.

“Fuck. Yeah, she made it real messy alright. Had her drippin’ all down the seats.”

Joel grinned at this, glancing down at your sleeping form in pure adoration and pride. “Mmm. I believe it. She’s always fuckin’ drippin.’ Doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, my baby love is always soakin.’”

“That right? Pretty slutty cunt like hers always ready to have a big cock in her, huh?” Tommy stifled a chuckle as he sank further against the seat.

You thought you were just having a wet dream, until your hand found Joel’s and discreetly tucked it between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against your ruined cunt that was pulsing once more. Little needy breaths slipped past your parted lips when he gently began to play with you, understanding that you were silently asking him to make you come one more time. You kissed along his neck, open mouthed with little nibbles here and there as you came in his lap, falling back into a relaxed state.

“Okay, think I gotta get my baby love home and in bed. She’s gonna sleep so good tonight.” Joel softly announced as he nudged you gently.

“Oh, I reckon she will be. You take good care of her, Joel. And text me when y’all are home safe, ‘kay?” Tommy nodded in Joel’s direction.

“You know I will, Tommy. I’ll text ya when we’re home.” He gave his brother a little nod and helped you out of the booth and towards the door. Once you were outside, the fresh air seemed to help you wake up a little more as you leaned all your weight into his side.

“You’re so beautiful, baby love. I’m so thankful for you, y’know that? You did so fuckin’ good. I’m so proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of my girl. Let’s get you home, okay? You’re gonna sleep so good tonight.”

“I love you, Joel Miller.” You murmured into his shoulder, one arm draped around his middle for support. You may have been cock dumb, and completely fucked out, but you words were true. You loved Joel, and he deserved to hear it.

“I love you too, baby love. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

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pascalsbby · 9 months

Text

The Devil & His Brother

Joel x Tommy x You

Prologue / Part I : 6.4K / Part II

Summary: The Devil was begging you to forgive him, and you wanted to. You wanted to bring your palms together and whisper his name through the cracks, hoping he would hear your silent prayer. “Let me stay here, with you.” He would get down on his knees and pray to your altar. He would bless it first, kiss it clean, before he would send two fingers to spread open your love.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, eventual smut. enemies to lovers, slow-burn, angst/comfort/sex, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, drugs/pills/alcohol, major daddy issues (that’s why you need BOTH miller brother’s instead of 1). talk of death, shit-talking god & the devil himself.

This was a labor of love, please comment, reblog, & let me know what you think <3

I will take a crowbar and pry out the broken pieces of God in me.

- Anne Carson

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Your soul was given to another man before you had even yearned for the rage to scratch it back yourself- have a choice in the matter of your own eternity. Two eyes looking down upon you, gazing into the depth of your skull. Where the fuck was he, when his children were screaming on their knees for his forgiveness, for whatever they had done to deserve this?

You couldn’t remember your own baptism- despite seeing countless bodies pushed underwater, coming back anew. Later in life, not coming back up at all. Drowning sinfully sin-less. You were thankful now, that the hard stuff was done when you weren’t old enough to know it- or deny it. You wouldn’t have washed yourself clean for him, drown for him, now.

You were angry at him- you had every right to be. You were utterly alone in a world that was trying to devour you whole by sinking one tooth into any part of your tender flesh. Your eternal soul was saved (given) to a hand in the sky before you even knew what a God was, what he was capable of, what he would allow, and you had suffered for it during life. But now, when it mattered most, you didn’t have to do a goddamn thing but lay here and die. Yet he wasn’t doing his part. What a fucking surprise.

He never came like all the people said he would, like the Bible said. There was no reckoning. Even he was too scared of what he created.

“I ain’t no God, sweetheart.” The sound reverberated through his throat in a sickly Southern accent. He might as well have been. His thick arms were the ones holding you, warming you against the soft flannel. You haven’t been touched by another human in a long time, and the veins running through his arms were suddenly whispering love stories into your own running blood. His hands were so big.

They refused your pleas. “Please, if you don’t do it just hand me the gun.” Always met with a thickly harsh, “don’t think so,” from the one who shot you. The younger one is somehow quieter than the first. You had been full of anger for years, but it didn't seem as heavy as it normally would, despite barking, “You already tried once and failed, let me do it myself then.” He looked at you, surprised that you wasted your breath in such a manner, it had barely come out of the back of your throat to begin with. He huffed a laugh as he turned his head back to his brother before looking straight into the dark night again, focusing on something that wasn't even there. Focusing on anything that wasn’t you.

You were used to men not following through. Your father was the ‘savior’ (born-again post-outbreak pastor)(liar) of a small group, all now a couple of feet underground, frozen in the decomposing water of themselves- and whoever was lucky enough to be thrown in the dug-up hole on top of them. Baptized over and over as the ground warmed in the spring and froze again in the winter. Perpetually drowning until they become what they were trying to escape all along- food for the earth to devour.

We didn’t burn them, because that would have given us away, invited anyone near to pluck the last of us out, but fire would have been easier. But we don’t do easy, not here. We gather whoever is responsible for your already rotting body and make them throw you into the ground, all in the name of God. You had written a lot into your leather-bound notebook, at first not wanting to fill the pages, because once the paper was gone, there was nowhere else to rip the thoughts out of your head, let them bleed through the pages. You read that specific entry over and over, having memorized it by now, making crinkles in the dusty pages from how many times you turned back to it and prayed to a God that wasn’t there to save them- you.

He was never planning on it.

Your journal was the same color as the Devil’s eyes, darkened honey-brown, alive. You didn’t have many places to look whenever you did have enough spite in you to open your own, body swaying from side to side on a horse that wasn’t yours, in a man's lap that you didn’t know. He looked pretty, even from below, even more so leaning his chin downwards towards your face and gazing up your body. I guess anything safe looks heavenly amidst fire.

Why would they do that? Kill you and then take you along for the ride. They hadn't spoken much for however many days you had been dying, watching as the sun kissed the sky goodnight and welcomed the moon, at least three times. Maybe you were bait for something even bigger- a young woman goes a long way these days. Always has, really.

You had always harbored a deep fear of death. It wasn't exactly the physical suffering that frightened you, but rather the haunting notion of losing loved ones. The consequences of deviating from the life path thrown on you by your parents. There was always this looming presence of the ‘evil’. The Devil… Lucifer, Satan, whatever moniker you choose. In the narrative your parents scripted for you, he was cast as the villain. It was all too funny now, his thighs warming your skin, setting you ablaze.

Lucifer was a beautiful, Southern gentleman- one who spoke quickly and stern. And God sat right next to him, mouth shut, waiting for command. You were so tired of following orders from men but suddenly it’s as if you’ve known all along that his gaze would be the one you melted under. Sludge. Burning flesh. Maybe there was no God. Sure, the other man who sat next to him looked like one, but so does this one. He was an idea, the fear instilled in you, your parents' guilt. But you knew evil more than you knew true good, and the Devil was below you, only cementing that truth further. He was keeping you right here, draped across his lap, and despite your dying, he still caught glimpses of your naked flesh. And you didn’t know if it was eyes burning into you, or the gunshot wound he had so nicely gifted you. You almost wanted to thank him, if that’s what it took for him to wrap himself around you.

Romans 6:4 hung on a carved board in your parent's room after the first wave of death. After your father decided that the group needed someone to lead them, and that your mother wasn’t it, she sat back happily and carved words into worn wood. You had felt safe there, sixteen and under the guise of whatever your parents told you. Young, naive, pure.

‘We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. We’re now dead to the power of sin. Being raised from the water.’ It later hung in the main room of a run-down grocery store turned Church. The church itself was down the street, the rotten door holding in rotten bodies from whoever had come before. Maybe they had sat and awaited the way you all did at first, waiting for their savior. He never rang the doorbell, never knocked. He had just walked right on by, whistling his hymns and being grateful he was above it all.

A new life? If Jesus died for our sins, wouldn’t he be upset with you right now? Laying on your… death horse…. And still not bruising your knees for him? Why can’t he be angry enough to let you slip out of line and take the easier way? I guess suffering wasn’t his go-to, at least outwardly. Fear was more his thing, and fear would eat you alive and cement your veins before true sin ever could. Guilt is what gnaws at your ankles, whispering poetry into your hair. Fear had passed. Anger had too, momentarily. Rage was a common home.

He should have taken you by now, held your hand and kissed your forehead goodnight. But you knew that he wasn’t coming. He never came for your parents either, nor your brother. You waited each time by their bodies, but he never called, never even picked up the goddamn phone.

He promised resurrection to people who needed something to hang on to. Promises made to be broken. God was more comfortable than death. You repeated it over and over as a prayer to those who had lost someone. We all have. Your dads own voice booming through the quiet. Now, you are losing yourself.

But really, there was no more you, not really. Maybe the horse knew too, bucked you off, and laughed as you felt the thud of the ground under your shoulder blades, because suddenly there was no air left in the entire dwindling world. The snow that was kicked up into your face from the weight of your body wasn’t melting as it would have before. You were cold. There was no world. There was just endless pain before a bout of relief. Not even enough to fill your lungs in one breath in or out. Even the horse knew you were dead weight. Every animal fighting for its survival. That’s why you were shot, too.

You scared the Devil and he took it upon himself to punish you.

At least that’s what you convince yourself as you lay dying on the cold, unforgiving ground, the weight of your pain bore down on your frail body- words trying to come out in shallow gasps. He wasn’t coming.

“Please,” you begged.

You heard shuffling, and then a shadow covered the setting moon above you. The all-to-familiar sound of his boots gaining on your still body. You could still smell him, had been able to this entire time you had been on his horse, in his lap. You could feel the pressure of his fingers rapidly squeezing your cheeks, feeling for blood flow, then the burning of his fingers on your neck, looking for signs of life amidst the dark night. Finally, he was touching you again. Maybe now he would kill you, too. His final gift.

“Fuck,” he hissed. That muttered obscenity made you feel more alive. “Get the fuckin’ horse away from her Tommy.” You heard the reins of the animal you were sat upon being pulled, and the hooves cascading further into the night. He returned to you, the coolness of his rings stung against your face, the cool air keeping them cold despite the warmth of his body. The bullseye tattoo, the only indication of who was touching you besides his smell. You had seen it multiple times throughout the rising and falling of the sun. It had cupped your body against his. He holds your face, as he leans into you, bullseye sitting right beneath your chin.

Throw a dart and it would hit you right in the throat- where you wanted him. Where you wanted him to breathe life into you again.

“Please. Help me go home.” Home hasn’t existed in years. You’d been unconscious for days.

“Shhh. No point in talkin' baby. Hurts too much. We’re goin’ home.” You looked up at him and despite the hardness of his exterior, you saw the understanding in his eyes. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared back into his skull.

Almost how a lighter ignites, flickers, warms, almost unbearable but not quite. The wind blows the fire to your fingers, stings, then disappears. As did his burning gaze. The feeling of putting out a cigarette as it shoves its last bit of self out into the world, smoke followed by nothing, simultaneously.

That was him, you would come to find out, as his silhouette and his own warmth flees from your touch. As the brown from his eyes turns to black as your own close. He sighs.

The snow crunches under his weight as he assesses how to pick you back up.

“And you ain’t goin’ anywhere but where I take you. Got it?” A half-attempted nod before a sigh of pain.

You didn’t know where you were going- why, you were still alive… or whatever this in-between was. All you know is that you prayed to the Devil. And he answered.

He was the only one who ever answered.

The return to Jackson was painful, the remnants of a long-ago shattered world marred the landscape. As they neared home, the journey became colder, perhaps another reason why it remained a well-hidden place- not many people made it there alive. Joel and Tommy, ever vigilant, guided the two horses with unwavering resolve, constantly scanning the horizon for any indications of danger. Meanwhile, they carried the injured girl, whose body was only partially present after being thrown from the horse three days ago, blankets thrown atop. It had been five days since she was shot. Since Joel shot her.

The way you looked up at him every once in a while was breathtaking- it was too much of a painful reminder that he’d lost (or will lose) everything he’s ever cared about. He could see it in your eyes, the confusion of who and where you were. Watching life move through someone's body and out of their eyes used to be a victorious occasion. It meant he succeeded, that he was still alive regardless of the mangled bodies he left behind. But this felt different to him. You were so godamn young and he plays the scream ripping through your throat over and over an- he swears he didn’t pull the trigger. Joel's gruff voice broke through the haze of silence that had fallen upon them days ago and never left. He broke through his own circling thoughts. As he spoke to Tommy a mixture of concern and guilt for your being broke through, he felt it in his throat, his chest. He didn't want to be responsible for this death, but he sure as hell didn’t want to know you either. Because knowing someone only meant more pain.

“We've been carryin’ her for days, Tommy. How much longer can she hold on like this? No point in bringin’ a dead girl home.”

Denial was a motherfucker, wasn’t it?

Joel knew of death- he didn’t believe in shit besides such. He used to be a God-fearing man but knew if he ever had the chance to stand in front of him he’d rip him in two and gnaw on the pieces of his holiness.

Tommy knew of death too, even before the outbreak, but the difference was that he also believed in life. He knew exactly why Joel had that scar, even though they’d never talked about it. It was a quiet understanding, one he never pushed or even poked and prodded.

Tommy's response was laced with a fear, for what Joel had done, but empathy for what he knows he sees every single time he looks down upon you. "We're almost there, Joel. She's tough, you know that. She should have died from that wound but she’s still breathin’, that counts f’something. We'll get her to Jackson, n’ she'll have a chance." He kept looking into his brother's eyes before pulling away and looking ahead into the blinding white. If he said what he really wanted, he wouldn’t stop. “You fuckin’ shot her but now you want to save her? Make up your fuckin’ mind.” The least he could do is help him save someone, even if it’s just for Joel’s sake, especially after he couldn't save Sarah. ‘Least he could do is keep his mouth shut.

Joel was the last person he had- the only person. Ellie didn’t even love him like she loved Joel. It’s always the broken, harsh ones that receive the most attention. People spend so much time trying to put broken people back together that they don’t realize the others are teetering with one foot over the edge.

They’d gone outside the walls because funny enough, they thought it would be more safe this time of year, the dead of winter. Ellie had begged for months for the boys to take her out with them and show her this and that. She was getting homesick for a place she never truly loved. She was tired of sitting still inside walls of safety when everyone she had ever loved was buried outside of them. Tess came along too, providing an extra line of safety, ‘just in case’.

Tommy remembers Joel whispering, “There's somethin’ coming.” More so someone, you. A moment later, a gunshot, a thudding body. Joel was normally calm on the trigger, rifle in hand, looking down the barrel of the gun, aimed at his prey. But Ellie was there, Tommy, and Tess. His people. There was no time to fuck around, so he didn’t. Tommy understood. But that didn’t make it right in his head. His brother was never patient in the moments that mattered the most.

One evening, about ten hours from wherever the fuck they were taking you, the sun began to set, setting ablaze a warm glow over the frozen landscape. You had been awake, more so than the past couple of days, looking up at the moving clouds in the sky, watching as his chest moved and released more air into the sky, breathing visible and dancing in the cold. The horse beneath you abruptly stopped and the two men descended their spots atop of them, stretching their legs and gaining more control of their tired bodies.

“You’re awake,” the younger one let out, moving his focus from the soft mumbles he was giving to the other man. “‘Bout time we clean your wound again, see how it’s doing.” You let out a faint, “mm” and attempted to sit up. “No. We’ll get ya off the horse. Be still,” the other said. The Devil grabbed the water and reached up to you, his fingers moved across your face as he gathered your wandering hair and moved it away from your lips. He turned the canister upwards, slowly, letting you drink from it. “Thank you,” you managed. It was the first time he heard your voice not mangled with absolute fear. He stared, eyes roaming the silence, looking ever-so surprised that you had said anything at all, and so clearly at that.

The angel moved closer and reached out his hand, thinking now was a good time to introduce himself to you. “Tommy, Miller. This is my brother, Joel.” he looked toward him. Joel forced an upside-down grin and nodded his head toward you. “You…” pointing towards the one called Joel, “you shot me.” Silence followed, it was heavy, thick. “I didn- Thought you were dangerous, came around that corner too fast.”

“I wasn’t even armed, I-“

“Don’t wanna talk bout’ it.” he huffed, almost angrily. You opened your mouth again, wanting to rattle off one of three hundred questions that you had, but he looked you over once more, and then turned around and walked off. Tommy, with gentle hands, tenderly lifted your body off of the saddle and carried you towards the fire Joel was nursing. The crackling of a campfire and the scent of cooked food filled the air as they set to work, tending to your wounds with diligence that spoke to Tommy's belief that you would be okay (You had to be. He couldn’t fail Joel again. Couldn’t watch as his face fell with the realization that you were completely dead).

His fingers were deft as he cleaned your wounds, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He saw the goosebumps rise, and felt them, as the fire lit your skin. You caught glimpses of concern in his eyes, a silent reassurance that he was determined to see you through this. Joel's presence was a constant anchor, as he spoke into the fire, keeping it lit. They laid out blankets, far too many for just two people to be carrying alone, and sat you atop and below them.

The rest of the night had been filled with your echoing screams, Joel’s palm across your mouth, “Stop screamin’ or someone is gonna find us.” Sure, stop screaming while dirty, whiskey-cleaned fingers are prodding at your open wound. Not even a sorry moved past his lips.

Joel laid down on one side of you, Tommy on the other. “M’ sorry,” he whispered towards you. They both smelled of sweat and whiskey. Their chests rolled and fell at different times, Joel murmuring in his sleep once he finally stopped looking around the parameter. You could tell they were brothers.

It was night when the three of you arrived ‘home’. You heard a young girl's voice above the gathering crowd.

“Joel!” She parted the gathering crowd as the patter of quickening footsteps approached. His head whipped quickly, finding her immediately.

“What the fuck?”

“Ellie,” he warned.

“You can’t fucking do that Joel, I thought you…We made it home three days ago. Tess dragged me by my hair but I-”

“Good,” he huffed back, “Where is she?” Ellie blustered but gave up arguing.

Multiple men gathered around and took the blankets off your body, the air hissing through your torn clothes. You whimpered as they moved your body off of Joel’s horse. He didn’t say anything to you, instead he turned and followed Ellie out of the crowd, carrying the reins with him.

You were carefully carried to a bigger two-story home on the outskirts of the city. As the night turned towards the morning sun, you found yourself gaining strength. The length of the night had been blurry, chattering voices and hands, everywhere. Needles, bliss, whispers. Stripping you from the blood-ridden clothes and water pouring over your lips. Fingers, hands touching you, always caught in a delicate dance between stoic tenderness and warmth

‘Gonna be jus’ fine, baby.” Tommy had assured you, multiple times.

Suddenly it had been a week. They took turns caring for you, someone sleeping in the same room as you at all times in case you needed something. Always talking about “patrol shifts” and how Tommy was expected to be a leader of some sort. You had overheard a lot of conversations booming through the thin walls of the house. One hurting more than the others.

“Shouldn’t have fuckin’ brought her here in the first place. You know the whole town is gossipin’ about it right now. The Miller brothers bringing in another mouth to feed.”

“Stop it. Sh’can hear you Joel. You know that’s not how anyone thinks of it. She could help this place. Give her a chance.”

“She’s been practically fuckin’ unconscious for a week now, Tommy. You think she’s just gonna get right up n’ run the town?”

“Why did you take her in if you don’t even want to be responsible for her survival?” Tommy threw back at him. He regretted saying it immediately, watching as it hit Joel in the face before he closed his eyes and looked away. Joel was more so there to watch you and make sure you didn’t bleed into his wooden floor, while Tommy tried to provide as much comfort as possible. After realizing that this was Joel’s home, it made sense in what little you knew about him. There were few things on the wall, but there were remnants of him everywhere.

Ellie would come home and sit with you, read to you and then tuck you in after Joel carried you up the stairs and into his bed. You missed Tommy’s gentleness when it wasn’t there, but you missed the warmth from Joel's body, his lap, when he wasn’t there. His breathing, his nervous habit of cracking his fingers. Even though you could tell that every nerve ending in his body wanted you anywhere else but wherever he was- there was still a silent curiosity.

About a week and a half after your arrival, someone knocked on the front door of the tattered house and Joel called for Tommy up the stairs. He walked down them quickly, walking out of the front door with Joel.

He returned a few minutes later, looking at you sitting in the seat you hadn’t left in since you’d been there. He gave you a look, slowly looking towards the ground as he spoke up so you could hear him. “Gotta go for a couple of days. Heard there’s a group who probably followed us close to here, saw their smoke, gonna take care of them before they can make it any further.” You hadn’t spoken much, if at all, the past couple of days. You didn’t think you would make it this far, and now you were sitting with two strangers and a teenager in their house, rotting away. They had poked and prodded, trying to get any information out of you that they could, but you didn’t give in.

You stared out the window and answered meekly whenever spoken to, if at all. You should be ecstatic at the thought of finally being housed somewhere ‘safe’, somewhere with electricity and running water. Somewhere where they gathered the children and let them watch movies in the mess hall (all information coming from Tommy, telling you stories as he changed your bandages)- but you weren’t. You felt like you were still teetering on the edge of death. You felt like a burden to Joel.

You didn’t answer Tommy, just nodded. He packed up a few things and promised to ‘be back in no time, then maybe you can tell me your name.’ And then he was gone out of the termite-ridden front door.

You had fallen asleep, and awoken to Joel in another room somewhere, those same goddamn boots thudding against the creaking wooden floors. His presence was constant, every once in a while getting up from a creaking chair to come look at you. You slept, mostly. Ate the dinner he got from the dining hall. Your rage had returned. But baring your teeth in anger took energy you didn’t have.

Joel couldn’t look at you without feeling like he was looking straight through the blood and guts of you(r)(side). Tommy wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone about it before he left. How pretty you were, how there ‘weren’t many pretty faces left n’ you’re tryin’ to kill one?’ He watched as Tommy cooked you with his stare, warming his next meal only to put on his best-dressed suit and bail on the date before he could even pick up the tab. He was glad he was gone for a while, letting him forget about the fact that he had put the bullet in you. He loved his brother, but he knew his games. He knew his inability to stay.

Joel had nursed you back to… alive. At least. He hadn’t really thought about what that entailed after you were stable. He was surprised you were still breathing. He didn’t think about the feeding, changing, and bathing of you. Of hands touching flesh and natural bodily reactions to such.

You could tell he was the older brother. He held the normal stereotypes, sternly telling you what to do. The older one was always more serious, and stoic. The younger, who probably got away with more, but was the loneliest from eyes diverting. But his big brother was always there, begrudgingly present. And he was in this instance too.

Tommy had washed you multiple times before he left, but never your hair or the rest of you. He was more concerned that your stitches didn’t get infected.

Joel probably thought giving you a rag bath was wasting water, but did it anyway, probably tired of your stench in his bed. It’s cold until he heats the towel after noticing you shiver. “Let me draw you an actual bath. Think you can take one now.” He was softer at that moment, more gently with the way he wiped the towel across your chest. Those moments happened least expectedly. But when they did happen, it hurt even deeper. You felt something for him. And that just wouldn’t do. Rather it be lust, loneliness, or your raging fucking daddy issues.

Tommy likes the water cold, and Joel likes it burning to the skin. Of course, he does. He is all or nothing. Hot or cold. Soft or hard. He’s solitude but brings the same warmth of a front door opening to a sea of snow, chimney warm, lights warmer, hot chocolate, and bourbon- he is. In any other world but this one, he would probably be a good man; one to settle down with. One to hold you against himself, despite of raging night.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

a/n: Phew do I have plans for these three…

taglist: @worhols @sarap-77 @mishasminion360 @justagalwhowrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @romanarose @milla-frenchy @bandluvr97 @alwaysdjarin @basicoccult @hellfyreroz @northernbluess-blog @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pr0ximamidnight @bambydxll @morgaussy @n7cje @theywhowriteandknowthings @gracie7209 @pedritoferg @twirl731 @med494 @k-ra @gintheginger @obscurexsorrows @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @ours-is-a-strange-fate @megangovier20 @rayslittlekitten @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrotonin @bluetattoos @sscorpiiio

318 notes · View notes

proxima-writes · 3 months

Text

along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items.

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email [email protected] with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you.

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns.

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme.

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him.

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink.

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!”

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?”

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher.

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core.

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body.

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch.

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him.

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there.

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure.

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck.

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

check under the doormat

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?

▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)

▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

howl’s song association!

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As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.

But you hated it.

You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.

With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.

In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.

Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.

You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.

“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.

“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.

“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.

“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.

He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.

You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.

Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.

“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.

“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”

“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.

“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”

“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”

Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”

“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.

It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.

You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.

For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.

Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.

You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.

As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.

“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.

“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.

“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.

“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”

“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”

You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”

Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.

“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”

“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.

“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”

“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”

“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.

“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”

“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”

You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.

“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.

“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.

“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.

“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”

You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.

He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.

“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t. You know why?”

“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.

“Because we’re friends.”

You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.

“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.

“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”

You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”

“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”

Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”

“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”

“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”

“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.

“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.

“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”

Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.

“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.

“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”

“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”

“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.

“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.

“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.

With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.

The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.

A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.

“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.

“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.

“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.

You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.

You didn’t mind it, really.

The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.

Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.

The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.

With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.

“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.

“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.

“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”

He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.

You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.

The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.

“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.

You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.

It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.

Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.

Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.

When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.

“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.

Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.

It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.

The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.

“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.

You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”

He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.

Finally, Tommy realised that, too.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.

His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.

“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.

He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.

“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.

“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.

Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.

He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.

Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.

Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.

“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”

“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.

Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.

“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.

“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.

“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.

“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”

It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”

You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.

When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.

“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”

You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.

As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”

Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”

“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.

“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.

Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.

This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.

“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.

“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.

“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.

“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.

You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.

“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”

Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.

“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.

The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.

“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”

Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”

You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.

“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”

Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.

You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.

The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.

Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.

You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.

And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.

With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.

“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”

“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”

Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.

The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.

You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.

A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.

With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.

“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.

Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.

A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.

You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”

When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.

Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.

It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.

Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.

The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.

“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.

You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.

“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.

You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.

From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.

Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.

Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.

“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.

He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.

You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”

“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”

“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.

“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”

He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.

Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.

You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.

“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”

You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.

With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”

His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.

“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”

Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.

“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”

“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”

Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.

“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.

He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.

You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.

When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.

He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.

PART FIVE

▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller father figure #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller father figure #tommy miller angst #tlou imagine #tlou one shot #tlou imagines #tlou angst #the last of us one shot #the last of us imagine #heartpascal writes

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pedgito · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄

summary | both the miller brothers had a thing for you and you had a thing for them. they give you an ultimatum and you don't like that. so, instead of one, you choose both. [9k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader x tommy miller

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, age gap (sort of, it's not specificed by tommy & joel are late 40s/early 50s and reader is labebled as younger) bar owner!joel, bartender!tommy, 3somes, flirting, soft!joel (in the beginning), tommy is a little bit of an asshole, oral ( f & m receiving) unprotected piv, aftercare, joel is selfish

author’s note | joel and tommy have no interaction together in this, at least to that extent. so heed the tags and don't read if you don't like, xo.

“Actin’ like you ain’t never gripped a damn bottle in your life,” Tommy grumbles over your shoulder, fingers wrapping around your own until you have a secure hold on the neck, “tight–alright?”

Your lips pull together tensely, forcing down the urge to roll your eyes as he guides your hand through the motions as you fancily flip the bottle upside down to pour out the liquid into the glasses on the counter in quick, careful precision as you filled each one to a certain amount before moving onto the next, but somehow keeping up the swift pace Tommy was asking for.

Or, really, demanding.

He nods quietly behind you, staring back to admire his handiwork, knowing most of that was his own doing and his ability to perfect his showmanship over the past several years of heading the bar under his brother Joel, who owned the bar.

Your relationship with Tommy was…tricky, but Joel—that was an entirely different mess.

He passes the shot off to a few waiting customers enjoying the show, and you have half the mind to think that Tommy is getting off on the fact that you’re openly embarrassing yourself in front of the patrons, but really, he’s just an asshole.

Though, you’ve come to understand that was how Tommy showed his fondness and if he was being overly nice than you’d know something was up—hell would freeze over, pigs would fucking fly, and you might actually accept his advances for once. Not today. Not with him breathing down your neck as he motioned for you to repeat the process on your own.

You take a deep breath, lining up the shot glasses uniformly and turn your wrist to grip the neck of the bottle, finding Tommy in your peripheral as he nods, “Tighter,” He mumbles, “don’t need that thing slippin’ out of your hand mid-rush and Joel chewin’ my ass out over a wasted bottle of bourbon.”

“I dunno,” You tease playfully—

Tommy surges forward and tightens your grip around the bottle.

“Think you’d know a thing or two about a good grip but goddamn.”

“If you keep this up I’m talking to Joel,” You threaten lightly, an airiness to your voice that shouldn’t feel as menacing as it does, but Tommy backs off slightly, grumbling something under his breath, “—good boy.”

Tommy rolls his eyes in annoyance, rolling his shoulder backwards as he rests his hands against his hips. You continue, swinging the bottle around less clumsily than before and pouring out the shots in quick succession—no mess, no spill. It was perfect.

Tommy scratches at his jaw, slightly dejected now as you turn back to look at him.

“What’s next?” You ask with a flashy smile, shoving the bottle square into the middle of his chest.

Joel catches you near the end of that day, shoving a few things away in your assigned locker, thick fingers curling around the open door, subtle smiles gracing his features as he greets you with a nod.

“It’s been a few months,” Joel reminds you, thinking back briefly on how much has changed for you in such a short time—you had friends, a solid job, a place to live, and two boys who you couldn’t help but fawn over—it was natural luck you ended up in this position, “how you holdin’ up?”

And while Joel wasn’t as forward as Tommy in his attraction, you sense it in the way he looks and speaks to you in private, no watchful eyes to spy on you. Besides, Joel seemed private and reserved, so it wasn’t that odd that he felt comfortable approaching you in private.

“Okay, I think.” You answer truthfully, playing with the curled paper of the calendar taped to the inside of your locker, your own fingers curling underneath Joel’s own, pointer fingers touching but unmoving, you glance at him hesitantly before averting your eyes to somewhere beyond him, following the eyeline of the bar as you watched Tommy wipe down the front of the bar.

“Tommy ain’t givin’ you anymore trouble?” He asks, “I know he’s technically your boss and all—”

“And you aren’t?” You chide playfully, eyebrow raised slightly as you pocket your phone and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “And yeah, but…no more than usual. I can handle Tommy just fine, you know?”

“I know, I know,” He laughs softly, hand moving away from the locker to pat at your shoulder, squeezing gently at your bicep—touches were so familiar with Joel. A hand on your back, a subtle touch of his fingers in the dip of your neck. He had respected your space in the beginning, even with how witfully you charmed him with ease. You enjoyed touch, viewed it as a language of love and didn’t mind when Tommy initiated it either. Often finding your own subconscious movements to cling to and touch the people you conversed with or felt comfortable around—he doesn’t mean much by it, you think, “but, he does still have to listen to me. I am his boss.”

“I pulled that card on him today, actually,” You admit, hand rising to rub at his elbow comfortingly, “he simmered down pretty quick.”

Joel sees the hold you have over his brother, both with your personality and general attraction Tommy felt with—well, most of the people Joel hired to work under him. But, Tommy is teasing with you, testy, and he’s not like that with the others. He’s comfortable enough that he can come off like an asshole knowing you won’t take it personally.

Joel chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder at Tommy before turning back toward you and rubbing a comforting finger under your chin, “Good girl.” He comments sweetly, it has your stomach doing flips no matter the context. It was a normal sort of endearment from Joel, but given the context, it feels like a praise rather than an outright compliment.

You smile shyly and shove his hand away.

“You know, we’re cooking out this weekend if you wanna swing by,” Joel offers, “it’s, uh—for Sarah.”

Sarah. You didn’t know much about her aside from the fact that she died young, around thirteen—it’s been close to twenty years now, but Joel still celebrates her birthday.

You nod half-heartedly, “Yeah I’ll—I’ll try to swing by.”

Joel smiles warmly, before pointing an accusatory finger at his brother across the bar, “Keep his ass in check, alright?”

You smirk, an underlying feeling of…something, feeling dizzy from how openly Joel adored you when it was just the two of you, “Always.”

Austin heat is sticky and humid, clinging to the bare skin of your legs exposed by the short summer dress you wore, strappy and flowy and—while it wasn’t an unusual sight to the Miller boys, they didn’t see it as often as they liked. So, of course, they gawk.

You shove the case of beers into Joel’s waiting grip, a subtle wink as he acknowledges your presence. Quickly crowding in by Tommy who’s already a few beers in, just by his loose nature as he slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing gently. He sips generously on the last bit of his beer before allowing the rim to hang slack between his fingers.

“Tommy,” You acknowledge graciously—there was always a slight tinge of annoyance with him, not the type that made you angry or upset, but frustrated. Whether just plain frustration or sexual, you couldn’t put your finger on, “already starting the party without me?”

“Come on now,” Tommy teases, “you know it wouldn’t be a real party ‘til you got here.”

“Is anyone else showing up?” You ask curiously, leaning subconsciously into Tommy as your eyes spot Joel several feet away in the kitchen, unpacking the beers. “Tess? Bill?”

The bar was closed today. Always was. It didn’t matter what day Sarah’s birthday landed on.

They had food, drinks, a cake—it was a real party, only missing its esteemed guest.

You’ve only seen Sarah through pictures and heard through stories told by word of mouth, but Joel has never cared about anything more in his life, not until the bar and long after Sarah’s death. He’d named the bar in her honor, a simple but beautiful nod to someone so special in his life. The Monarch.

She loved butterflies. And know, whenever you see them—it’s a little reminder of her presence.

“They can’t make it,” Joel speaks from the kitchen, his mouth downtrodden in its usual scowl, his natural resting face, “so—looks like it’s just us.”

“Can you handle that?” Tommy whispers teasingly in your ear and you elbow him gently in his side, “Hey—she’s already hittin’ me, Joel.”

“Stop pissin’ her off then,” Joel offers, “mind helping me, sweetheart?”

He nods toward that back and you nod quickly in response, but not before pressing a quick hand into Tommy’s side as you pinch him playfully and earn a pitiful shout, giant grin growing on your face as you depart and follow his older brother, giving Tommy an eyeful of your swaying hips, dress barely dipping past the bottom of your ass.

She’s a friend dammit. That was it.

But, it didn’t stop Tommy from crushing on you. Hard. Even at his grown age.

You follow Joel outside with a spark in your step, meeting him at the grill situated on his back deck as he flipped some of the cooking meat, an open beer in his left hand.

“What did you need?” You ask curiously, noticing that he wasn’t speaking now.

“Nothin’,” He admits, “just like having you around.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your touch instinctively, his head turning to glance at you. He huffs out a soft laugh through his nose before returning his attention to the open grill, meticulously flipping the meat.

“Think if I kiss up enough to the boss he’ll give me the day off tomorrow?” You ask curiously, a hint of mischief gracing your tone as you train your eyes where he was looking, even if his gaze flicks toward you for a brief moment.

“Depends.” Joel responds gruffly, setting down the utensil to close the lid of the grill.

You huff a laugh at his ease to respond to your subtle attempts at flirting, completely harmless, but the unspoken tension lingered like a constant.

“On?”

“If you’re being’ literal or not,” Joel offers and it sends a tingle down the base of your spine, his knuckles brushing against your hip from where you’re hanging off of his arm, “cause that can be arranged.”

There’s a brief moment where you think he’s being serious—and in Joel’s mind, he is. But, the slight widening of your eyes as the words leave his mouth have him worried, like maybe he read into this wrong.

He smirks, “I’m kiddin, sweetheart. Long as you can find someone to cover your shift—“

You interrupt him abruptly, calling out to his brother.

“Tommy!“ You half-shout over Joel’s shoulder, causing him to wince and chuckle at the suddenness of it.

Tommy’s trying to pretend like he hasn’t been staring this entire time from across the kitchen, eyes locked on your figure as you draped yourself over his brother, face lighting as you talked and the subtle touches that should be him—at least, he wished it was him.

He clears his throat and heads toward the back door, head popping out before the rest of his body, “Y’all need somethin?”

“Can you cover my shift tomorrow?” You ask, a saccharine smile and a look that Tommy fell for every time, finding you hard parted from Joel now, he notices how your hands smooth out the dress that barely covers your thighs. “Please?”

“Is this what you two are doing now?” Tommy asks, now fully in view as he closes the sliding glass door behind him, “Plottin’ against me—you can’t give her special treatment, you know—“

He points an accusatory finger your way that you swat away, both of your eyes locked on Joel who seems less than interested as he sips on his beer.

“She’s gotta find someone to cover her shift,” Joel explains, “same as everyone else.”

Tommy calls bullshit, knowing Joel would figure it out himself or cover for you—it wasn’t like you did this often, but Tommy was more than aware of all the times he came to your rescue, almost like you were using it against him. A ploy. A devious plan to get under his skin.

He knew Joel liked you—but dammit, he did too.

And even in his steadfast attempt to deny you, you reach out and grab his hand, uncurling yourself from Joel as you approach him—sad eyes and a fake pout.

“Stop that—“ Tommy warns, his voice soft and anything but demanding, but you only lean in closer, and as strong of the man Tommy thinks he is, he breaks, “—god, Fine. I’ll cover your shift.”

You smile wide, right on the edge of celebrating before Tommy is snuffing the joy out.

“On one condition—“ Tommy holds up a finger, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing there was always some sort of but coming with anything Tommy agreed to, “remember that date you flaked out on?”

It was one time—within the first week of you working at a bar. Tommy didn’t waste any time and given your eagerness to try new things, you didn’t shut him down.

But, you psych yourself out and cancel.

Tommy’s always remained slightly jaded by the ordeal and part of that has contributed to your hot and cold relationship and willingness to tease each other but still have no restraints in your frustration toward one another.

“Hey—that’s not,” Fair dies on your tongue, his shoulders shrugged in a firm response, “—fine, yes. I do.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows in obvious question.

Date?

You scrunch your nose in annoyance but quickly relent, “Okay—but I’m picking the place this time. No fucking bars, Tommy.”

Joel listens to the conversation with a scowl, completely unassuming since it was his usual state of emotion.

Tommy holds his hands up in defeat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Glad y’all got that settled,” Joel interjects with a tone that pulls your attention back to him, “if you’re done flirtin’ with each other I need some help.”

You and Tommy appease Joel quickly, helping him with the food and when you’re finally through dinner, spending a quiet moment around the cake. You don’t sing or anything—Joel hates it. But, he does light a candle and blows it out, signifying another year of her absence.

There’s a quiet moment with Joel toward the end of the night—Tommy is off somewhere in the backyard, presumably cleaning up the grill for he and Joel’s shared space. They were both unmarried and found that living together and splitting the pay was easier than anything else.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Joel tells you, slipping the dirty dishes from your hands as he discards them in the sink, “we’ll handle it.”

“You sure?” It felt like the least you could do.

Joel nods, shrugging as he sets his half-drank beer bottle on the counter—he’d lost track of which one it was. Enough that he feels a faint buzz in his system as he thoughts run and he admires your curious face as you tilt your head, wondering why he seemed so…lost.

But, really—it was just that kind of day. It was never good for him, as much as he tried to act like it was. Yet somehow, with you here, he feels more at ease.

“What?” You ask curiously, a playfulness to your tone. “Keep starin’ and I might just have to give you those kisses, Joel.”

And really, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Joel gradually moves closer, looking back briefly over his shoulder at Tommy.

He smirks slightly as he turns back to you, catching that soft, familiar smile on your face.

“Don’t think he’d be too happy about that.” Joel tells you, playing with a bracelet clasped around your wrist, his front nearly pressed against your own, so close you could reach out and slip your hands under his flannel, touch the bare skin and finally find out what those older women at the bar were talking about—Joel didn’t get around, but he wasn’t a stranger to a casual hook-up.

“Maybe I want to,” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “what does Tommy have to do with that?”

“Sweetheart,” Joel breathes and you can’t resist, slipping a few trailing fingers under his shirt, which he quickly grabs with his own hand, tightening around your wrist, “I’m your boss, I can’t.”

The buzz of alcohol impedes you both, smart decision making out the window now.

“Like you don’t already give me special treatment,” You reply flippantly, teasing his obvious weakness, “....Joel.”

You.

Joel kisses you suddenly—you’re only half-expecting it as his large hand rises to cup your face, the other locked firmly around your wrist and he presses his lips firmly against your own.

He tastes like beer and the sweetness of frosting as you lick into his mouth, the hand not held tight in his grip finding its way into the front of his shirt, bunched into the fabric as you sigh into his mouth, the kiss quickly divulging into a battle of who could hold purchase on more of one another, hands exploring as Joel hands find their way over the back of your dress, the tips of his fingers grazing bareskin as he grabs and squeezes your ass, your teeth grazing against his bottom lip as you pull away suddenly, but not by your own doing.

It was Joel, his face flush from the alcohol in his system but also the intensity of the situation. There’s so much unspoken there and both of you want to speak and Joel nearly does before Tommy is shattering the moment, announcing his re-arrival into the house. You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully as you glance between the two brothers, feelings and thoughts battling in your head.

Tommy was wild and unpredictable and you craved that.

Joel was practical and determined and that’s what you needed.

And selfishly, you wanted them both.

The conversation that happens later that night between Tommy and Joel is anything but civil.

“She agreed, Joel—it’s not like I’m forcin’ her,'' Tommy argues, “She could’ve said no and I wouldn’t care. She knows I like her, ain’t my fault she seems to like me back.”

“You’re still her boss.”

As if he had any leverage, it pops Tommy out of his chair and toward Joel with an accusatory finger.

“And you? You’re my fuckin’ boss so how is that any better? ” Tommy asks and Joel looks away briefly in annoyance, fists curling at his side, “Think I didn’t catch you two earlier? Cut the shit, Joel.”

“This ain’t high school, Tommy,” Joel retorts, “We aren’t fighting over her.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty fuckin’ clear when you decide to make a move on her in the kitchen and then you’re standing here tellin’ me I can’t have her—how about you treat her like a normal person and let her choose, Joel.” Tommy retorts, “Or is that too damn hard for you? Not getting what you want?”

It sparks a deep fire inside Joel. Tommy too. And you really have no choice but to give them an ultimatum—besides, you wanted both. You were getting both.

It isn’t like they planned it, but somehow they manage to coincide and corner you at the same moment—Joel coming out of his office and Tommy rounding the door into the backroom, your frame bent over a box of bar snacks. When you look back, your eyes widen slightly.

“Shit—am I—are you firing me?” You ask, deeply concerned. You weren’t the best bartender, but you tried.

Tommy and Joel share an equally confused look.

“No—no why would you think that?” Joel asks.

You wave your hand vaguely between them both, a serious and concerned look on both of their faces. It wasn’t out of the norm for Joel, but for Tommy, it was unsettling.

“Then, what?” You ask, only slightly annoyed. “We’re not exactly slow on customers right now—”

Another shared look, this time tense. Which one speaks first—it feels like race.

“Look, I already told Joel—” Tommy begins.

“Sweetheart, you need to know somethin’—” Joel interjects.

And it clicks quickly. Very quickly.

The shared look of frustration as they both purse their lips in a tight line, identical hands resting against their hips. This was ridiculous—the fighting, the silent arguing without actually sharing words.

“I’m not choosing.” You tell them forthright and their reaction is less than ideal, like two sad puppies who’ve just been scolded for bad behavior, but they both stay quiet and hang on your words, seeing that you weren’t finished. “If that’s what you’re expecting me to do.”

“No, that’s not—” Joel tries to argue, his voice fairly level for how distraught he seemed.

“I want you both,” You shrug, rising with the box in your grip, “so, if I can’t have that—then no.”

And you leave them with that, stewing in their own thoughts. Their gazes follow you as you walk, shoving past them gently.

“I’m not givin’ up.” Joel tells Tommy instantly, a look of defiance from his younger brother is thrown his way–Tommy was just as stubborn as Joel, if not more.

“Yeah, neither am I.”

Of course, you already knew how you wanted this to go.

You spoke to them both separately, promising a proper date at a specified place on a specific day and time—they wanted you and you wanted them. But, you were doing things your way.

And that is how you end up at the Miller’s brothers home again, a few weeks later, both of the men dumbfounded at how you mastered this plan. They were both wholly faithful to you, agreeing to go along with your plan to lie to the other brother so they wouldn’t get suspicious or upset, but really, you just wanted them both chasing their own tails.

They didn’t realize what was going on until they found themselves both getting ready at the same time that day, something lingering in the air that they couldn’t put their finger on until you were knocking at the door, a wide smile on your face. Joel answers, but Tommy isn’t far behind.

It’s how you end up on the couch later that night, squeezed together and eyes droning into the movie playing on the television screen, lingering touches like burns against your skin. Joel and Tommy are trying to avoid each other, but sometimes they’ll bump fingers and shoot a scowl at each other, but then you’re adjusting yourself to find another comfortable position and their attention is quickly drawn back.

Some of it is spent against Tommy, head resting against his solid chest but Joel’s hands never stray too far, a warm and comforting presence against your shoulder or thigh, a tender rub of his thumb into your sore muscles. Tommy likes to run his fingers along the shell of your ear, his chest shaking with a laugh at the movie every so often—there was little conversation happening and you blamed that on the obvious tension in the air.

When you trade Tommy’s touch for Joel, he’s ready for you.

You tend to like wrapping yourself around him, arms snug around his own like you’ve done a million times before, but you find your fingers dragging along the length of his forearm and he’s more shifty than usual, socked feet crossing and uncrossing as your touch grows, all the while Tommy’s hand firmly on your thigh, squeezing when you squirm a little too much, feet hiked up and resting in his lap. His thumb circles your ankle and rubs, a gentle massage to your bare feet as you sigh and that—that is what catches their attention.

“That feel good?” Tommy asks casually, a genuine question.

You weren’t one to complain about sore, achy feet and muscles from long shifts at the bar, but you weren’t going to turn down a nice massage or welcoming touch. You nod and Tommy smiles, allowing his deft and strong fingers to dig into the muscles of your foot, pulling another sated sigh from your lips. Joel hears the soft release of a breath from your lips and turns his head toward you, a subtle smile pulling at your lips as he stares at you more unabashed and open than usual. It’s the same look he gave you before kissing you the night of the party and you feel it, see it before it happens.

And somehow within the shared exchange, Tommy’s hand has climbed higher along your calf as he massages tenderly until he’s nearly at your apex, supple muscle pliant other his skin as he squeezes. Joel whispers something to you as he leans in, feeling the shift in the environment.

“This alright with you?” Joel asks quietly as you look over at Tommy, who despite himself looks just as eager if not more, like they weren’t completely turned off by the idea that you wanted both of them

Possibly at the same time.

“I think I should be asking you two that…” Your voice trails as Joel’s free hand slips to cup the back of your head, fingers molding with the shape of you as he tilts your head back, allowing him the lead willingly—and Tommy is there, right there at the apex of your thighs and you want is so fucking bad it pains you, physically and mentally.

“Oh, darlin’—there’s a few stories I could tell you,” Tommy offers, fingers lingering over the button of your jeans until you nod, quickly popping the thread apart and allowing his fingers to curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging gingerly, “but that’s not important.”

Joel mouths at the line of your jaw instead of capturing your lips immediately, dragging out your suffering longer as you assist Tommy in his tug at your jeans, kicking the denim of your ankles as his large hand settles of your clothed pussy, panties damp at the center despite how hard you’ve tried to ignore the instant pleasure they’re touch gave you.

“No, no tell me.” You nod furiously, feeling Joel grins against the side of your face.

“It was a long, long time ago, sweetheart.” Joel defends, “Back in high school and college when Tommy just couldn’t go off and have his own things, always wanting everything his brother had.”

Tommy scoffs, scooting closer to you as he drapes a leg over his lap, spreading you wider for him, his hand following a slow path back and forth—all the way down to the apex of your knee before gradually back up to your pussy, throbbing underneath his touch as his fingers press into the sticky, wet fabric.

“That’s a stretch,” Tommy scoffs, “Anyways, darlin’—we used to, uh—”

Tommy doesn’t know why he feels ashamed to admit. So, Joel does it for him.

“We like to share, sometimes.” Joel explains. “I mean, I’m not in favor of sharin’ you but if that’s what you want…”

You nod furiously, the press of Tommy’s fingers grow stronger as he slips them past the side of your panties, touching the bare seam of your pussy, covered in the copious amount of sweet slick that had accumulated between your thighs.

“Oh, that’s what she wants,” Tommy surmises, a small chuckle hidden within his speech as his mouth hangs open slightly, watching yours grow wider as you gasp, his bare touch like a spark, “isn’t that right?”

You nod again, but that isn’t what he’s looking for.

“Need you to say it, sweetheart.” Joel demands, his hand squeezing at the thigh that wasn’t stretched out over Tommy’s lap, the other resting against your neck now, squeezing the muscle gently under his grip, his lips only a few millimeters from your own now. “Say you want this.”

“I do—fuck, I do,” You whimper, a single digit slipping past your entrance and into you, the stretch not quite what you’re looking for but the touch alone—from Tommy, is enough to drive you mad, “I w—want it. Both of you.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Joel agrees easily, capturing your lips in a searing kiss—heated in a way that has your stomach doing flips and your free hand gripping his grown out hair, peppered with grays but so fucking soft between your fingers.

Tommy slips in a conspicuous second finger in the midst of the heated kiss and it surprises you how good it feels, just graced by the thickness of his fingers but you need more. Want more.

There’s a subtle snarl to the way Tommy admires you so openly, his eyes dragging along the slow rise and fall of your chest and the way you cunt sucks his fingers in with greed and nothing else. He wants to taste you.

There’s a brief look he offers as you break apart from Joel, breathless as you turn your head toward him, Joel’s following as his eyes trail toward the point where Tommy’s fingers are buried inside of you.

“Use those words,” Joel whispers against your cheek, a smirk growing on his face, “don’t be afraid.”

“Whaddya need, darlin’?” Tommy asks enticingly, removing his fingers in an anxious anticipation, wet fingers dragging along your thigh. “Gonna let me taste you?”

“Please, god—please.” You whine pathetically, watching as Tommy dicends without question, removing your panties with a swiftness that deafens the task at hand. It takes a moment as you untangle yourself from Joel to settle more central on the couch, squealing softly as Tommy manhandles your thighs over his shoulder, settled on his knees and his palms pressing flat over the tops of your thighs.

Joel settles solidly behind you after some maneuvering, a sturdiness to his chest that takes the brunt of your weight as you relax against him, his hands quickly finding their way under your shirt and pulling it up until the fabric is bunched under your skin, bare breasts on full display as he runs a gentle, testing touch over them with his palm, eyes closing at the overwhelming sensation of both of them surrounding you. You don’t even have the guise to feel shy that this was the first time they were seeing you like this–it felt normal, like this is what was supposed to happen.

Tommy floats a hot breath against your skin, kissing a line up the inside of your thigh before he speaks, “I got you, darlin’,” He assures you, “—tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod shakily, looking up hesitantly at Joel over your shoulder and he can only offer a grin, though his eyes harbor something much darker. “Tell ‘em, baby.” He urges, “You want him to eat your pussy, right?”

You nod obediently and Joel grabs ahold of your chin gently, guiding your gaze back toward Tommy, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

“Need your mouth, Tommy,” You beg, earning a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement from Joel against your chin, who leans in with a gentle whisper of tell him where as you exhale an even shakier breath than before, “on my pussy—please—”

Tommy snickers softly before he obliges, a slow, languid lick of his tongue through your folds as he starts, ripping a quiet gasp from your chest as your hand instantly finds his hair, overgrown like Joel’s but stark black and gelled back like usual, never a hair out of place.

That wasn’t going to be the case much longer, fingers fisting into his hair and using it as leverage, the slow licks between your lips quickly exploring inside of you, teasing dips into your hole as he chuckles a soft breath which each and every squirm you offered, all while under the intense gaze of Joel, who was clearly holding out—he wouldn’t kiss you as hard as you tried, trained on your face as you challenged his eye contact, not daring to let it go unless he physically forced you to look away. His hand still lingered against your chin but occasionally fled for a comforting touch when things got intense too quickly and you were almost teetering over the edge, but he quickly brought you back down.

And within that, you’re so blinded by pleasure to not realize that he’s instructing Tommy the entire time, only catching onto the last few commands as Tommy devours, making his own selfish noises as he groaned when you pulled a little too tight on his hair, mumbling praises of depravity and a ‘so fuckin’ sweet—always knew you were, darlin’ and the occasional, breathier ‘come on baby—use my face, fuckin’ take it.’.

Joel speaks to Tommy directly, despite keeping his eyes on you.

“Oh, you’re right there, huh?” Joel asks you goadingly, “Need more?”

You nod eagerly, despite how good Tommy’s mouth feels, he was lacking in one important aspect—you couldn’t blame him, he was a little overwhelmed with everything, as were you. But, Joel, he seemed the most-level headed and you were so fucking thankful for it.

“Want him to play with your clit, sweetheart?” He asks, “S’that what you need?”

“Ye—Yes.” You stutter, the gentle squeeze of your breast under Joel’s grip causing you to clench around Tommy’s tongue and he flicks his eyes up toward you both and there was no telling how pathetic you looked, but Tommy seemed just as equal on that playing field.

“You heard ‘er, Tommy.” Joel tells him, “give our girl what she wants.”

Our girl.

It doesn’t take long when his tongue presses against your clit, circling maddeningly until you have no other choice but to grip onto the couch and moan, the tightening, agonizing feeling in your stomach bursting at the seams as you come against his tongue. Joel captures your mouth to swallow the moan, not trying to give Tommy the satisfaction just yet while his brother greedily licked away at your pussy, cleaning up the mess you’d made, a gentle smile on your face as you finally came back down, allowing Joel to lick greedily into your mouth before you chanced a glance at Tommy, his pupils blown out in pleasure.

“Think we should move this to the bedroom?” Joel asks preemptively, a soft laughing bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah—yes, please.” You agree, but your legs feel weak, unable to bear your weight.

“I got you, baby.” Tommy assures, helping you to your feet gently, a comforting hand on your waist as he led you toward what you could assume was Joel’s room–considering he had the bigger of the two, Joel following closely behind.

The deafening click on the door is both a promise and a warning.

This was a secret held within these walls and whatever took place could not be reversed.

You were willing to take that risk though, selfishly.

And you were sure the Miller brothers shared the same sentiment.

And for some reason, you didn’t think it was that important you come again. Not after the first, seeing as how they had proved their point in wanting you, nearly brought you to tears with your first orgasm and maybe—maybe you could just blow them both and it would be fine, even the playing fields and leave it at that.

But, no. That’s not what they wanted. Or planned for.

Joel eats your pussy for fun, he doesn’t even try to make you come. You manage to convince Tommy out of his jeans early, using the fist you have wrapped in his shirt as leverage as you hover on your hands and knees, gripping his thick cock in your free hand and giving it a few slow tugs, knowing that if he was this big, there was no telling what Joel had to offer.

He’s uncut and girthy, thick veins lining his cock as you lapped teasingly at the head, pulling the foreskin back as you took him into your mouth, a moan reverberating over his cock as Joel ate you out from behind, ass high in the air as he settled on his knees. It wasn’t an ideal position, but Joel wasn’t complaining and neither were you.

Joel had always stripped at some point, still clad in his boxers but devoid of everything else. He’s much wider than Tommy but not nearly as firm—where Tommy has a more chiseled chest and stomach, Joel carries a softness that still beckons with strength.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Tommy sighs, “got a goddamn mouth on you, you know that?”

To some extent, you did. He knew you liked to argue at every possible opportunity, throw back witty remarks that sometimes he didn’t even have a response to but this—this is more than he could imagine. Wet, hot heat surrounded his cock in a way that could have him coming within a few strokes, but he was determined.

You nod with your mouth latched around his cock, taking him to the base until he nudges that back of your throat, trying desperately to ignore how it makes your eyes water, hearing Tommy groan deeply with the feeling of you swallowing around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” Tommy warns, “—go on, baby, pull off if you wanna.”

You shake your head defiantly, feeling Joel chuckle against your cunt from behind you.

“She’s greedy, brother,” Joel comments slyly, “You should know that.”

Tommy comes with a low groan, fingers wrapping around the arm still gripping his shirt, thumb rubbing against the skin to soothe himself and keep him anchored here, feeling like he might teleport to another goddamn dimension with how eagerly you swallow down his cum.

You pull off with a soft pop and look at Tommy, grinning proudly. He can’t even hide his adoration, chuckling behind a toothy grin as you pull away from Joel, turning in Tommy’s lap and pressing your back against his chest.

“You think I’m greedy?” You ask Joel teasingly.

“Look at you,” Joel comments snidely, though there’s a playfulness to his tone, “couldn’t settle for one of us so you’re gettin’ both—that seems pretty damn greedy to me.”

You nod mawkishly to his words, watching as he grew closer, shifting on his knees as you leaned forward slightly, feeling the gentle press of Tommy’s palm against your back, his spent and softening dick, pressed against your bare ass. He knew it wouldn’t take long, just a few minutes and he’d be even harder than before, unable to resist you.

“And if I want more?” You ask curiously.

“More what, sweetheart?”

“Well, for starters—I want your cum, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “Can you give me that?”

“Dunno, you think you deserve that?”

Tommy’s watching the exchange with an amused grin, feeling it was a well-deserved punishment to Joel with how often you and him argue this way. Joel was finally getting a taste of the medicine he so often mocked Tommy for complaining about.

“Come here.” You beckon, grabbing lazily at his wrist and pulling him toward you.

He seems hesitant at first, but he leans over you, sandwiching you between him and Tommy as you press your lips in a featherlight touch against his own.

“Kiss me.” You demand.

“What?” He asks curiously, like his brother hadn’t just come in your mouth.

And that’s exactly why–it doesn’t make your skin crawl, in fact, it only turns you on more.

“Please, Joel,” You pout, “just a little peck and then I’ll let you fuck me while Tommy has to watch–that’s what you want right? Wanna pull some claim over me while your brother can’t do anything about it, am I wrong?”

Joel kisses you so intensely it forces you back against Tommy, a small mmph leaving your mouth as Joel quickly gained the upper hand and wraps his large, rough hands under your ass and scoots you further down the bed until the back of your thighs press against the top of his and you moan as he licks into your mouth, knowing that the lingering of Tommy’s headiness touches his tongue and you bite down harshly on his bottom lip as he pulls apart for a brief, lingering moment.

Here it comes—the questioning consent, the lingering wonders.

“I’m covered, Joel.” You assure him, “We don’t need them. I trust you both are clean.”

Assuming that Tommy was going to fuck you too—which, god, you fucking hoped.

That’s all Joel needs, nodding before he grabs ahold of his shaft, dragging the tip of his cock through you wetness, gathering it in a slow teasing trail before he presses inside slowly, watching the stretch of you around his cock. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on the same point either, because what Joel lacked in slight girth he made up for in length, feeling the numb press of him inside of you before he was even fully sheathed.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” He says, voice strained, “that’s a tight fuckin’ fit. Think you can handle it?”

You laugh brokenly, Tommy’s hands comforting over your shoulder before they trail to your breasts, teasingly rubbing a nipple between his fingers, watching it pebble underneath his touch.

“Do you want a pat on the back or something?” You retort, “Fuck me, Joel.”

“There she is,” Tommy comments in amusement, “I knew you were in there. Give it to ‘em, darlin.”

“Shut it, Tommy,” Joel snaps, “Know what, sweetheart, I got a challenge for you.”

Joel moves his hips slowly, pulling out slowly before pushing back in even more agonizingly slower. “No touchin’, how’s that sound? Think you can handle it.”

You shake your head. Honestly, Joel could respect it.

“Fine—Tommy, hold her hands.” Joel settles and part of you expects Tommy to argue.

He doesn’t. In fact, he looks just as greedy about the idea. And he knows if you were uncomfortable with it you would speak up, because secretly—it was exactly what you wanted. Render your power and your own autonomy for a brief moment and give yourself over to them equally. Tommy holds his hands out in wait, wiggling his fingers teasingly.

You hand them over with a soft sigh, feigning annoyance. He guides them to wrap around his waist behind you, arms stretched over your head as Joel has a solid grip on the underside of your thighs, hips still moving slowly throughout, so slow that you forget he’s actually seated inside you until he snaps his hips once, twice, his resistance snapping when he sees you settle.

Tommy settled on his own knees, though sat deeper into the bed, his hands a tight, mindful presence against your wrist as you squeeze and claw at his skin as Joel pistons his hips with a ferocity that seeks vengeance, or something there of.

“Squeeze my cock, sweetheart,” Joel goads, feeling you do just that as your eyes roll back, “yeah—don’t act like this wasn’t what you planned from the beginning.”

“Our girl’s good at that,” Tommy comments, staring down at you with a mischievous smirk, “playin’ us both—kinda like it though, I’ll admit.”

“Shut up,” You groan, “Both of you.”

You pointedly pinch at Tommy’s skin and he tilts his head in both amusement and confusion.

“I think she’s gettin’ a little upset,” Tommy acknowledges, “You don’t think it’s fair, darlin?”

You almost have the courage to reply when Joel’s thumb drags over your clit, rubbing in quick and determined circles to match the intensity of his thrusts, using his spread knees to keep your thighs wide and open for him, eyes locked on your cunt as you squeeze around him repeatedly, moaning wantonly into your bicep as you turn your head to the side.

But, Joel doesn’t appreciate that. He grabs your chin quickly, and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You keep those eyes on Tommy. Let him see how good I make you feel, alright?”

You pout slightly, biting harshly at your bottom lip as Joel shifts his hips slightly, but it feels earth-shattering, one hand planted into the mattress to allow for him to reach something deeper inside of you, if that was possible.

“I’m right—right,” You sigh, eyes tearing up as you looked at Tommy, clawing gently at his sides, “fuck–I’m right there, Tommy.”

Despite Joel being inside you, his name slips out. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. And he wants to give you relief but really, he’s just eager to be inside of you too. He knows the quicker Joel finishes up that he can have you, so he encourages his brother. And Joel is too desperate for his own release to argue.

“Ask him, sweetheart.” Joel notices your eagerness for approval from Tommy and plays into it, feeling the familiar feeling building in his gut as he grits his teeth.

You nod furiously in understanding, eyes trained on Tommy. “I need to—can I come, please?”

“Go on, baby.” He agrees softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your chest as he feels your body shake with your orgasm as Joel swiped a thumb over your clit before everything goes white, gasping sharply at the intensity, but you don’t have much time to recover before Joel is pulling out and allowing Tommy to assist as you sit up slightly and feel the press of Joel’s cock against your lip, the blurriness in your eyes quickly clearing as he comes in long, forceful spurts over your tongue.

You lap greedily, swallowing visibly as Joel squeezes at his cock and forces out the last few bits of cum he had to offer, rubbing the tip against your tongue as you giggled softly, kissing his cock head gently.

There’s a brief second where you think they might allow you a break, a moment to collect yourself, but Joel is staring at you with his head cocked to the side, palming his softening dick as he glances over you at his brother.

“I dunno if she’s up for it,” Joel offers, “I think that might’ve taken it out of her.”

A shame, really. But, your eyebrows furrow in defiance as you quickly shove Joel, gently and not at all enough to really move him more than a few millimeters. It causes Tommy to chuckle.

“He’s just playin’ around, baby.” Tommy comforts, “You think you can handle it?”

You nod eagerly, turning on your knees as you rise to meet him with an eager kiss, something you haven’t had the chance to do all night. Tommy kisses with more eagerness, more passion—it’s less experience than what you feel with Joel. Tommy has so much he wants to match with you; the curiosity and unity in the way you touch him. You kiss like new lovers and it feels your body with warmth, both of you laughing softly against each other’s lips.

“I can handle it.”

Tommy eyes you seriously, following your playful gaze.

“Get to the edge of the bed.”

And—oh, that’s…different. Like a switch and you can barely recognize him.

Joel and Tommy switch with a trained ease as Tommy guides you to the end of the bed, the top of the mattress pressing at your waistline and giving you easy leverage to lean against and Joel is right there, in perfect view and waiting for you. He seems softer now too, more relaxed.

You think Tommy might give you a moment but he’s already hard again and eager, sliding inside of you in one go—hard and sharp as your hands press into the mattress between Joel’s thighs, gripping the sheets tightly.

Tommy grips tightly at the back of your neck and pulls you upwards, pressing his face into the side of yours and speaking tensely against your skin, “Why don’t you be a good girl and give my brother a taste of what your mouth can do, huh, baby?”

You nod obediently, shivering at the way Tommy mouths at your skin greedily before forcing you back down against Joel, his hands spread out beside him, cock hard against and resting against his belly.

He’s almost positive he won’t be able to come again–not this soon, but he isn’t going to deny himself the taste of your mouth, watching as you move with eagerness to please him and Tommy. The sharp snap of Tommy’s hips makes it a little difficult and Joel wants to scold his brother’s eagerness and lack of restraint, but he knows—Joel knows how good you feel and he can’t even blame him.

He offers a guiding hand as you swallow him down, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times, repeating the process with his hand resting gently against the side of your face, thumb rubbing tenderly at the joint in your jaw, feeling him stretch you and heightening the growing ache that will linger for a while.

“Fuck, our girl’s got such a sweet pussy, don’t she?” Joel comments snarkily, eyebrows furrowing when you take him a little too deep, “Can’t get enough of it—just like this goddamn mouth.”

You moan pathetically and Joel can’t handle it, gripping your face between his palms as he presses his lips to yours forcefully, swallowing the whine that leaves your mouth as you feel Tommy’s hands roam and tightening against your body, soft expletives leaving his mouth as he fucks into you and hand gradually arriving at your shoulder and tightening around the skin, pulling him back against your harshly.

Joel rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, eyes locked on yours, “Yeah—think you can come again, sweetheart?” A third? Not a fuckin’ chance. You shake your head weakly, ‘You can, I know you can,” And there’s Joel’s soothing voice, the one you hear so often at work, “You keep your eyes on me, alright? Nowhere else.”

“Listen to ‘em, baby.” Tommy interjects after a long bout of silence, too lost in his own head as he relishes in the squeeze of you around his cock, committing it to memory. “Gonna make sure you feel us tomorrow while you’re at work.”

Joel chuckles at that, the slow trail of Tommy’s hand as it finds your clit and begins slow circles, easing into it, “Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel comments teasingly, “maybe we just can’t resist ourselves and we can take turns fuckin’ you in the back office. But, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You moan sheepishly, eyes falling shut up.

Joel tsks, “Eyes on me means you keep ‘em open too, baby. Answer me.”

“Yes—yes, fuck—I would. I would.” You rush out, feeling Tommy’s pace quicken and the ache in your stomach builds and builds, tears building in your eyes as you keep them locked on Joel.

Despite his demands his face remains gentle and you find yourself sobbing softly into his hands as Tommy snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a deep, guttural groan as he tips you over the edge too. It’s too much, overly-sensitive and your muscles burning with more ache than when you started you let out another sob, falling against Joel.

“Go on, get somethin’ to clean up,” He tells Tommy over your shoulder, “I got her.”

You fall slack against him, feeling him adjust himself on the bed until you can sit properly, leaning you against his body as he hands run along your back, soft sobs wracking your body.

“Hey, you still with me?” Joel asks hesitantly. “Was it too much?”

You feel yourself start to calm under his touch, quickly shaking your head.

“Just…overwhelmed.” You admit, “Too much.”

“Too much?” Joel echoes with an endearing chuckle.

“Yes,” You admit amusingly, “I guess I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“That’s fair,” Joel offers, gripping your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers, “this doesn’t—we don’t usually do this. We haven’t in a long time. I don’t want you to think this is something you're bound to now.”

“Like he could fire you if he wanted to,” Tommy interjects with a sly grin, somehow managing to redress amidst your talk with Joel, just a pair of dark colored briefs but it allows what just happened to settle in more deeply, “come here, darlin.”

Joel switches off, pulling his own underwear on somewhere near the other side of the bed. And you welcome the warmth of the washcloth as Tommy drags it between your legs, hissing only slightly, “I know, you’re pretty sensitive—m’sorry.” Tommy mumbles, gingerly cleaning you up, dragging the wet wash cloth along your thighs as well, tender from his and Joel’s teasing bites at your flesh. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You say softly, his free hand gripping your waist tenderly.

Joel offers up your clothes silently, eyeing his brother wearily as he bounds around the room, gathering his own clothes and re-dressing, though Joel stays in his nearly bare state of undress, briefs allowing him some modesty.

“I’m gonna check the bar,” Tommy offers, “should only take an hour or so.”

Joel nods, “Alright, just…keep me updated, I guess.”

He isn’t ushering you out either, his lingering presence by your side as you pull your underwear up your thighs, a gentle touch of reassurances as you wobble on unsteady legs. Tommy chuckles lightly at the sight, winking when he catches your disgruntled gaze, nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“No fun without me.” Tommy jokes.

“Tommy—” Joel says steely as his brother throws his head back over his shoulder, slipping on his boots, “get the fuck out of my room.”

Tommy offers a mock salute and does just that, leaving you alone with Joel for the first time that night.

“I’m guessing the same rules apply to me?” You ask, shoving your arms through the holes in your shirt, yanking it over your head and you catch Joel shaking his head, pulling you to your feet with a hand when you finally look at him.

“I got you all to myself now,” Joel says quietly, “think I deserve to be a little selfish.”

You wince at the thought of any more sex tonight, but are thankful his hands down stray from your side when they settle there.

“Joel, I can’t—”

“Sleep here tonight,” He offers, “I’ll cook breakfast in the morning."

“I think you just want to keep to yourself all night so Tommy can’t have me, don’t you?”

Joel grins, leaning in for a gentle peck of your lips, “You’re damn right, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller smut #joel x tommy x reader #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing

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